


Big Trouble On Little Nar Shaddaa

by SithPriestess



Series: Desolation [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Erotica, F/F, F/M, Jedi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sith, Sith Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-09-23 18:33:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 50,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9670970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SithPriestess/pseuds/SithPriestess
Summary: The car pulled up suddenly, in a world of haze and gloom. Half-seen figures scurried about on ramshackle walkways, faces masked in rebreathers. A section of wall slid open and the car slid in, the muted lighting revealing a sizable garage, enough to hold thirty or more vehicles. The air cleared immediately as they entered, obviously protected by a magcon field."Welcome back to The Desarane, Master Ullan," the protocol droid said as the car grounded near a lift.She didn't have to play up the soft whimper and writhing motion as the rough circles abraded her flesh. Deserane, one of the Hutt underworlds, it fit.





	1. Deserane

**Author's Note:**

> Co-Written with my RP Partner Chromewidth

Big Trouble on Little Nar Shaddaa

 

Nar Shaddaa, a world that smelled as bad as it looked, though perhaps not as fetid as Nal Hutta. The ship was quartered in a small private hangar that had opened up for them upon receipt of a coded message he'd transmitted as they entered the atmosphere.

Ullan rubbed his cheeks. "I really need to kill another Mandalorian and get a fresh mask," he grumbled.

Iocina had sorted through the other costumes, choosing one with small abrasive patches down the sides of the bodice and two inward facing metal studs over her nipples. It wasn't the exquisite pain she'd felt the day before, but it was enough and much less distracting than the needles. She had them still, carefully threaded into the hem down the slit in her skirt. She had no weapons, and she could be creative with two dozen metal spears.

Bronus had arranged their hair, somehow taming both her own straight white tresses and Iocina's unruly curls into artistic formations. As long as it wasn't in her way, Iocina didn't really care what it looked like, well also as long as it pleased Ullan it didn't matter whether it was in her way either. She sighed, dipping mental fingers in the well of slave instruction and absorbing them again. Her ability to draw on them evidently required some effort, although the more she practiced the easier it became to become one with them instead of mimicking.

"Master," she asked from her prone position, "how may this one serve you when we leave?"

"Be my slave. An ornament when I meet with others and invisible when the discussion is serious. Stay out from underfoot and keep your eyes open. This is intelligence work, the sort of low down and dirty that neither side really cares for. They'd much rather just all get in a room together and hack each other up with lightsabers, but this is how wars are won or lost."

He pulled on his fresh cloak and examined himself in the mirror.

"You said you wanted to kill Jedi," she said, proud that her voice didn't even waver, "are you expecting them to be here Master?"

"I have a feeling, yes," he said. "Nar Shaddaa is neutral ground and the Hutts have useful resources, so both sides come here to play the game. Jedi are lousy at blending in in places like this, usually, though a few of them have some talents for the shadows."

"If there are Jedi about, and we encounter them, how should this slave behave?" she asked, "Should she pretend to ignore them, or play to the game Master started with Vrook?" even now, with the rest of her words modulated, the name sounded like an ill-wish.

"Was it a game," he asked, teasing the studs in her dress against her breasts. "Follow my lead. If you follow correctly, we'll get to kill some Jedi and you may be rewarded. Choose poorly and suffer."

"Yes Master," she leaned into the touch and smiled, "The slave only calls it a game because it amused you, thinking of his grief and pain."

"Vrook wouldn't grieve you. Rens, maybe, but never you. You're a threat to him, he'd rejoice if I killed you,” He put his hand on her neck. "If he really knew..." 

He turned away. "Heel, slaves. Let's go meet the natives.” he strode down the stairs from the hatch.

The two women fell into step on either side of him, precisely two steps behind at all times. After a few dozen steps Iocina sent a tiny thread of thought toward Bronus, not intruding into her mind but using the little connection to sync her movements with the slaves. A few more steps and she'd found the rhythm, footsteps perfectly matching. She thought it made a nice effect. She watched everything the passed in her peripheral vision, listened for any useful scrap of conversation. She couldn't be sure exactly what would interest Ullan, but if something was obvious she'd make note of it to present later on.

A Sullustan and a shiny chrome protocol droid waited for them at the entrance of the hangar, standing near an aircar. The car wasn't a shiny, sleek Coruscant model, but it was clean and in good repair. The Sullustan wore some kind of elaborate chauffeur's costume, topped by a slave collar and went to one knee, head bowed as they approached.

"Greetings to Lord Ullan, the powerful and mighty, slayer of Mandalorians and Jedi, the Needle..."

Ullan waved a hand. "Cut to the end, droid."

"Of course, master Ullan . Mistress Srin sends her warmest regards and offers the use of her personal craft and driving slave for your pleasure."

"My pleasure happens to involve my old friend Srin," he said. "Take me to her, slave."

He allowed the Sullustan to open the door for him, then pulled into the roomy backseat, gesturing for the women to join him.

Iocina stepped back so the Bronus would slide in first, leaving her with the opportunity to see her surroundings and leaving her free to act if necessary. She'd been to Coruscant once, when she was a very small child, and had only seen the area around the Jedi Temple and the Senate. Like Coruscant there were varying levels of buildings, with walkways stretching this way and that. Unlike Coruscant everything was filthy. The walkways and catwalks were narrow and some had been blocked off with neon tape as a warning, they even passed one that had collapsed onto a lower level recently.

She let loose her awareness in a spreading net, like the one she'd used on Vilargo to search for Rens, and riffled through the surface thoughts and emotions of the beings around them. A short time ago she'd have recoiled, feeling ill at the surge of wild emotions that came to her. People here lived passionately, not necessarily violently, but with everything they had. Every moment was full of something, be it anger or lust, fear or love, hate or hunger, and they took all of it to its limit. She absorbed it in bits and pieces, feeling as if it strengthened her. She wasn't sure what she was doing, only following her instincts.

The car plunged downward into the gloom, the construction and appearance getting ever more shabby and shoddy as they went. Ullan had an arm around Bronus, hand down the front of her costume. She giggled and squirmed gently, stroking his arm. His metal hand twitched and the abrasive patches began squirming against Iocina's flesh.

The car pulled up suddenly, in a world of haze and gloom. Half-seen figures scurried about on ramshackle walkways, faces masked in rebreathers. A section of wall slid open and the car slid in, the muted lighting revealing a sizable garage, enough to hold thirty or more vehicles. The air cleared immediately as they entered, obviously protected by a magcon field.

"Welcome back to The Desarane, Master Ullan," the protocol droid said as the car grounded near a lift.

She didn't have to play up the soft whimper and writhing motion as the rough circles abraded her flesh. Deserane, one of the Hutt underworlds, it fit.

She slid out of the seat following Bronus and artfully exposed her thigh in nearly the same movement as Bronus

Music descended upon them as they exited the car, a pulsing beat with carefully calculated subharmonics designed to quicken the pulse of most known species. Contrasting the gloomy squalor outside, the lift was opulent, plushly carpeted. Two slave attendants, male and female humans, waited inside, silently holding up displays. The leftmost, held by a muscular man wearing a sarong, slave collar, and a grim countenance, scrolled continual advertisements for the recreations contained within. Varieties of drinks, spice, and other chemical agents were followed by talk of gambling tables for games she'd never heard of.

The woman's sign was split between a side-scrolling display of pleasure slaves available from various different species, and a view of am ongoing swoop race. A swoop exploded silently, raining parts down on the track, and an overlaid odds display immediately adjusted, a red line slashing through a name.

He studied the female slave, a buxom redhead in jewel-studded fabric that left little to the imagination. She stared straight ahead, giving him no notice, even as he reached out and tapped her lightly between the legs. Her stoicism began to crack a second later, as the lift started to descend. A small moan escaped her and she began to squirm. Through their bond, Iocina could sense him gently manipulating the woman from the inside, a ghostly delicate touch that stirred a current of fear.

As the lift descended he continued, working expertly, the woman sagging back as she lost all composure, her fear sparking like a nova as his violation intensified. The display slipped from her fingers as she sank to the carpet, a slick moistness showing between the legs on her costume.

Iocina's lips parted, a slight panting breath slipping through as she tried to maintain her simple attentive expression. Bronus was staring straight ahead, as the slave had been before Ullan had begun to manipulate her. She did use the Force, only to keep the display from shattering as it hit the ground. Not that she was worried about the slave being punished for it, she was just as likely to be punished for any smaller failure to the amusement of an audience. No, she just didn't want the loud noise to startle the slave out of the terrified ecstasy she was taking into herself.

Her moans grew louder in intensity, reaching a sudden, breathless crescendo.

He leaned over the panting slave and rubbed her cheek. "You have been touched by the Sith," he told her gravely "and your children will grow up brave, powerful, and strong in the Force."

She sensed a dark amusement along the connection as the lift doors opened and he swept out, cloak billowing behind him as they stepped onto the main floor. It was a huge room, full of what could only be described as an amalgam of nearly every form of debauchery known to sentient species. Drugs, sex, gambling, violence, at some point on the floor any given taste could be cultivated.

What was even more stunning was the display visible through the windows.

They were on the ground. On Nar Shaddaa.

Through the poison mists, the accumulated toxin of millennia of wastes filtering downward to create a toxic stew, large shapes could be seen. Mutated creatures tested the glowing boundary of a deflector fence, or battled each other over strategically placed buckets of scraps, another source of wagers for those within.

Back to the floor, it pulsed with life and sound. Dancers gyrated in cages, slave waiters hustled the floor delivering drinks, meals, and other more proscribed items. In darkened alcoves, more serious or more lurid transactions took place. And in one section, roped off with a glowing fence of light, stood a bare patch of soil, the earth of Nar Shaddaa.

It took a valiant effort for Iocina not to stare gape-mouthed at everything around her. Everywhere was something she'd never seen before, many things she'd never thought she'd see. Bronus, of course, took everything in stride. She couldn't be sure if the other woman had been here before, but she could be completely certain she'd been in many places like it.  
The Dark Side flowed here, ebbing and flowing among every living thing. It was colored with thoughts of lust, power, greed, and an ever-present desperation. Nearly everyone here was desperate - Drunks and addicts desperate to reach a point of numbness or euphoria. Sex-hungry beings delving into new levels of debauchery as it took more and more novelty to satisfy them. Gamblers desperate to make enough to be able to eat for the week, or defeat a hated rival, or to feed an addiction that was as virulent as a drug. Slaves desperate for freedom, or simply to be sold to a jealous master who wouldn't let just anyone touch them. Underneath it all was pain, fear, hate. She felt sick and awed at once, frightened and fascinated. She wanted to taste and to recoil. She did nothing, perfectly in step with Bronus who was perfectly in place behind Ullan.

She couldn't resist running purely mental hands through the energy of the crowd, though she was wary of touching another Force sensitive mind.

The protocol droid blatted siren-like warnings to clear the path, but they were largely unnecessary. Dark cloak, metal arm, and lightsaber hanging openly from the hip announced to everyone that a Sith walked among them. Voices stilled as they proceeded along the floor, all eyes turning toward them. She could feel the eyes on her as well, she and Bronus were the ornaments, trinkets to be flashed as casually as one might wave a hand bearing an expensive ring. Bronus certainly looked the part: tall, gracefully, indefinably exotic and possessed of something beyond the mere sum of her visual aspect. She drew the lion's share of attention from those looking past her master.

Something lurched forward with a loud, metallic clatter. What had once been a Twi'lek woman, her upper body mounted on a robotic torso and connected to various life-support instruments. A half dozen legs shuffled along, bearing her weight with ease and ending with metallic pincers that looked as though they could snap off a limb with relative ease.

"Srin my darling," Ullan said, bowing from the waist. "As lovely as ever. May I finally take you away from this sordid pit and raise you to the stars, as a vision of loveliness such as yourself deserves?"

"Flattering," she said with a smile, reaching out with a pincer, the end splitting to reveal a small, padded grasper that patted his cheek. "So delightful to see you once more."

She gently bit the tip of her tongue, she wasn't sure if she wanted to choke or laugh. She flicked her eyes sideways to look at Bronus whose stance had changed slightly. The slave's chin had lifted every so slightly, chest pushed forward and one hip cocked seductively. Iocina carefully made herself a mirror image, slowly enough that no one seemed to notice.

What would happen if they did notice that she wasn't as well trained and as perfect a slave as her counterpart? A few possibilities ticked over in her head but she couldn't decide if any were more likely than the other. Would Ullan simply punish her, if any punishment he meted out was 'simple', or would he be more creative? She didn't want to find out.

There was genuine affection flowing along the connection between them as he spoke to Srin. Whatever his history with this misshapen woman, it apparently ran deep and far. He followed her to a booth, where she collapsed her legs down, forming a lower body unit that was almost human-sized as she settled onto a special divan.

They had a commanding view of the floor, with screens floating about showing goings-on in various darker corners. Moreover, they had a 180 degree pan on the exterior, where powerful lights battled against the darkness, showing the struggles of the desperate wildlife outside.

Ullan flopped back onto a couch and pulled Iocina into his lap while Bronus settled in at his feet, her cheek resting against his knee. Slaves flitted about, one of them offering him a drink.

He took a sip. "Excellent. Perfect."

"Of course," Srin said smugly. "Nothing but the best for the Needle. My Needle," she said with a smile.

"You're the only one who calls me that anymore, Srin," he said. He shifted around slightly, adjusting Iocina in his lap. He slid the drink into her hand to hold for him, then accepted a deathstick and took a drag.

She cupped the glass in her hand, eyes cast modestly down as she'd seen other slaves doing. The hand wrapped around her waist was pressing over one of the scratching pads against her skin and she wanted to wriggle against it. She tried to watch the odd female from beneath her lashes without being noticed.

"Not even Revan?" she asked. "It was his name for you."

"Revan is dead," he said, his voice flat. "Malak leads the Sith now."

Srin recoiled visibly, then recovered herself. "All glory to Lord Malak, of course."

"All glory," he repeated, lifting the deathstick in salute.

"So how will this affect the negotiations?" she asked.

"I'm going to affect the negotiations," Ullan said. "I'm going to arrive as the official Sith representative."

Srin's eyes widened. She waved for another drink. "With Lord Malak's approval?"

"Of course with his approval. Potentially retroactively, though."

She snorted. "You've never changed. The cloak, the arm, the red lightsaber, but you're still who you were meant to be all along."  
"I think I've improved a great deal. Especially in certain arts..." He slipped his hand down to Iocina's inner thigh, tickling along the leg.

She squirmed and giggled softly as Bronus had in the speeder, parting her legs to give him access. What negotiations? she wondered, putting aside the odd nickname Srin had given her master.

"You always had the most admirable enthusiasm," she said. "And you have a new toy, as well."

One of the legs unfolded, releasing the gentle manipulator, a half-dozen small, padded fingers that extended out toward Iocina, wrapping around her chin to turn her face toward Srin. "I'm not certain I see the appeal in this one. Rather... plain. Is she particularly capable."

Iocina felt fresh amusement along the connection. "Not terribly so. She's something of an orphan I accumulated along the way, more of a project to prove that with proper cultivation even the most worthless trash can have some sort of use. A personal test, if you will."

She let a small sigh part her lips, turning her attentive look to Srin. "Master is generous to take notice of this useless slave," she said, voice low and intimate, "she hopes that she can one day be a credit to him."

Srin's fingers tilted her face. "She speaks."

"She slips sometimes," he said, his metallic hand sending a jolt through her spine, not crippling but painful enough to send the message.

"Give her to me," Srin said "and she'll be the most docile little thing you can imagine. As cultivated as this one." She nodded at Bronus.

"You know I prefer to tame them myself," he said. "Now, about the negotiations..."

She writhed against him, little biting sparks of pain lighting her nerves on fire. She caught her breath in a few short gasps and lowered her head, biting the inside of her cheek to punish herself for stupidity.

"The situation here is very fluid," she said. "Vogga is still retaining the majority of power on the moon, but outside forces are pressing hard against the cartel. A successful negotiation of the Terethine tibanna strikes will give Vogga the leverage to hire enough mercenaries to make more moves."

Ullan nodded. "And mercenaries are expensive these days.

"The wars. Always the wars," Srin said, a playful smile on her face. "You wouldn't have it any other way, would you? So many marched off for necessity, but you were like Revan, your necessity was to go where you belonged."

He chuckled and snagged the tumbler from Iocina to take another drink. "I did find my home, yes."

Iocina tried not to fidget. Bronus, head still resting against Ullan's knee was at her ease and entirely unmoving as far as Iocina could tell. Letting out a slow breath she tried to calm her own mind, to just exist and be a slave. She twitched slightly as a female Cathar stumbled and dropped a tray full of drinks a few tables away. She immediately fell to her knees, groveling in the growing puddle of liquor. The shards of glass-crystal littering the ground bit into her knees, Iocina could sense her terror and pain.

Srin noticed as well, nothing that happened on the floor going beyond her notice. "Put her outside," she ordered casually, nodding to the droid. The droid shuffled away with the execution order as Srin turned back to Ullan.

"Vogga, of course, will not be attending the negotiations. But her majordomo, Trillis Candol, will."

"Candol. Mandalorian?"

"Indeed. That may prove a challenge given your history," Srin said. "He has no love for Revan's people."

"How did he end up serving a Hutt?"

"After Malachor? The survivors have taken up any refuge they could find, and who can blame them?" she said.  
"True. Very true. Can you get me leverage?"

She threw her head back and laughed. "Who are you talking to, Needle?"

Behind her, the sobbing Cathar was led away by a pair of burly guards.

A droid rolled out, picking up the tiny shards with a dozen whirring pincers before spraying a foaming cleaner on the carpet. Iocina turned her attention from it, trying again to find a mental balance between total submission and readiness. Finally she half slipped into a meditative trance, going as still and relaxed as Bronus.

"I can get you times, dates, locations."

"The usual compensations will be made, with a bonus drawn from the funding diverted from successful negotiation," he said. "But I need more."

"The Jedi," she said.

"The Jedi. Who are they sending?"  
"Master Hivvis Nisan and Padawan Truli Yrdr."

"Hivvis I know. The Padawan..." he shrugged.

Iocina fought to keep herself in a calm meditative state, a small flicker of sheer panic worming its way through her. Truli, well if she was given the chance she'd kill him between one heartbeat and the next, but Hivvis…

Hivvis had been the only bright point in her life after Yuld went after Revan to fight the Mandalorians. Hivvis had made time for her, teaching her anything and everything when he had time. He was a master slicer and investigator and he’d taught her everything she knew. He was the only one who’d believed in her, then he’d taken the one person she hated most as his padawan, leaving her behind too.

"Get me the data on Candol. The Jedi I will handle."

She felt a surge of predatory anticipation welling within him. There was a stir running through the crowd, and she could see the spectacle unfolding behind the glass. The Cathar, masked in a flimsy rebreather unit, stumbled through the murk. Bets were flying on her survival, measured not even in minutes, but rather seconds. Ullan turned to watch, reaching out in the Force to taste the doomed woman's fear. He glanced at the odds board, then reached out more strongly, seizing the first mutant to sense the Cathar and steering it away, befuddling its feeble mind.

She tilted her head to watch, a cruel feeling of excitement nearly stirring her from the meditation. She wasn't certain if it was her own feelings or Ullan's spilling down the bond. She sensed him manipulating the creature, but couldn't tell what his end game was. She focused on it, keeping herself from thinking of the two Jedi. 

As she stumbled about blindly, he steered another creature away from her, setting it upon the first beast. The bettors were going wild, the early bets lamenting as she survived the first thirty seconds. Now even the longshot bettors were starting to look nervous. The Cathar suddenly tripped and fell, dodging a whipping tentacle that would've swept her off her feet.

What are you up to Master, she thought, not daring to let the question actually pass her lips and she hoped not through the bond either. She was now thoroughly distracted from worries about Rens' old friend and his Padawan, and was happier for it. She wasn't sure what she was going to have to do about it, and picking it to death in her head wouldn't help her make any decisions until she had more information. Emotions were building within the entire room as they watched the plight of the hapless slave.

She struggled alone, in the dark, in a poisonous soup that slowly seeped through the shoddy rebreather, as death lurched about her. Inside, the full spectrum of feeling was flowing freely, the despair of bettors who had lost major amounts, the hopefulness of those who hoped their number would be the one to strike, the longer it went the greater the odds and the greater the potential payoff. Others were simply excited at the highly unusual spectacle of a hapless victim somehow managing to last more than thirty seconds.

A predatory coral structure attempted to snare her, only to be foiled by another mutant lumbering into the path. The beast went down in agony that resonated through the Force, its hide melting under an onslaught of acid.

Through it all, Ullan drew from the rising feeling, soaring above the tide of emotion, his contempt unseen and unfelt, as he played a hundred beings and more in the room, all of them unaware of the strings being pulled from the highest booth.

When she finally caught on it was like watching a symphony, all the parts coming together in one grand performance. Iocina felt awed, in the full sense of the term. Bronus had called Ullan 'mighty' and that he was better than the other masters. Had she meant 'better than the other slave masters,' or 'better than the other Sith masters,' she wondered. Both, was the first answer in her mind.

She wanted to touch this too, certain she'd never be able to create this kind of masterpiece - with the light or the dark. Was this like Nomi Sunrider's battle meditation in some way? She could imagine this being used in battle to terrible or wondrous ends - all depending on which sort of power the user was drawing on...

The Cathar always seemed to stumble back towards the windows just as she was about to duck out of view. The bets were becoming outrageous now, and even some calls were being made to bring her back inside. Her plight was capturing the heart of the crowd, and while it was not precisely sympathy, she had gained some level of unearned admiration for her apparent luck and heretofore unheard of skill at surviving on the deadly ground of Nar Shaddaa.

"Ridiculous," Srin said. "As if we could get her back in even if we wanted to..."

"Perhaps one of the maintenance droids could collect her, Mistress," the protocol droid said.

Srin sighed. "Very well. Bring her back inside."

At the announcement, scattered cheers broke out. Iocina felt Ullan send out a new pulse, and a small creature flittered up, an incredibly long prehensile tongue snapping out and grabbing the Cathar about the neck. The crowd groaned and protested as she felt to her knees, struggling in vain against the little creature. She dragged it forward, toward the transparisteel window, wrestling the whole way. In the airlock, a droid lumbered forward, but it was going to be too late. It had to be too late.

In her panicked thrashing, the Cathar reached the transparisteel, colliding against it. The mask came off and she screamed, the sound not penetrating the thick barrier, her face breaking out in molten blotches as the acids attacked unprotected skin. The room fell silent as she toppled backwards, the creature reeling her in to feast upon her acid-scorched body.

"Oh thank the stars," Srin said. "What would I have done with her if she survived? She couldn't have waited tables anymore."

"How fortunate," Ullan said. "Brilliant entertainment nonetheless."

"Yes," she said, giving him a suspicious eye, then looking at the tidy sum the lucky bettor who'd guessed the closest was collecting, enough to purchase a nice starship. "Fortunate."

Iocina's breath hitched slightly as the energy in the room changed. The only thing she could liken it to was the time she'd watched a whirlwind on the plains behind the Enclave. It had picked things up as it strengthened; when it had reached its full power one of the masters had done something, stolen its momentum so that it twisted apart and all the bits and pieces inside it fluttered to the ground.

She worked to smooth her face again, half closing her eyes into meditation once more. She cast around for something to focus on and the words that had come to her when she'd returned from meditating on the hull drifted into her mind. She began to repeat them as a roundelay mantra, grounding herself.

I belong to my Master, I owe him my fear and my fealty. He owes me nothing, and I receive only what he deems to give me. I earn nothing from my Master, only what it pleases him to impart into my mind. I am my Master's slave, and I will serve him well in any capacity he desires or accept my punishment with humility and terror, for he is mighty.

Each phrase could have two meanings; fealty to a master given by a slave, and a sworn oath of apprentice to Master.

He talked with Srin for some time longer, providing facts to absorb, making references to long ago times.

At least he slapped her leg and rose up, stretching like a cat. The tenor of the room had changed over time, the party having grown much more subdued after he'd worked his will upon them. It had been a subtle motion, but one had affected many in ways they could not comprehend. She could feel him drawing strength from their newfound despair, the darkness that had gripped the room.

"Srin, my darling, a pleasure. Would that I could spend my days at your side, basking in your beauty."

"Remember what I said," she countered, flicking a claw at Iocina. "If you want this one properly tamed."

He slapped Iocina on the ass. "Oh, she'll tame up or die."

She swallowed, little prickles of fear and desire crawling up her spine. She raised her chin and lowered her eyes, adopting the correct posture Bronus had exemplified.

The pale slave rose languidly to her feet, hand lightly brushing along Ullan's robes as she did, falling into her place with Iocina behind their Master. Iocina knew, and likely Ullan as well, that both women's thighs were slick as they followed him. This should bother you, she thought, deep in her mind in a place she tried to keep secret, How long has it been? A week? Has he changed you so much? the thoughts came quick and uncomfortable, but didn't mar the expression on her face.

Was he telling the truth to Vrook, about making you a compliant obedient slave? Are you really his apprentice, or are you deluding yourself? There was no way to be sure, but she had made all her choices. She'd have to live, or die with them.

He sauntered back to the lift. A new pair of slaves awaited them this time, equally attractive, but beneath his notice. His sensations along the link were almost post-coital, the satisfied rush of having toyed with so many lives.

"Take me to the Center of Commerce," he directed the chauffeur as he settled back into the aircar.

In the back, he pulled out a privacy field and activated it. "Your thoughts, worm?"

"Nothing," she lied. She knew it was stupid, but her thoughts were weak - utterly shameful.

He rapped his metal palm against the side of her head. "Nothing? Nothing at all? Critical negotiations with the Hutts that could affect the course of the future war effort and the alignment of the Hutts in the larger galaxy?"

He rapped her again, harder this time. "The arrival of two Jedi, both of whom I assume you know?" Again, painfully hard, just short of a slap. "My masterful display with that pathetic slave? It's not easy to control that many alien beasts and guide them just so, you know. Also, as far as the slave up front is concerned and any visual monitoring, you're being punished for your stupidly loose tongue from earlier."

"Am I your apprentice?" she asked. The question had been in her mind from the moment he'd defeated her on Vilargo, and she'd been too terrified to articulate it. "Or am I only your slave, as you said to Vrook?"

"You're going to be what you earn. So far, you've managed to do something impressively stupid to balance out every mildly impressive act."  
His hand closed on her throat. "Stop worrying about it. Make yourself into a vessel of my will, and I will make you what you are worthy to be."

"Yes Master." she whispered, pressing her throat harder against his hand. She ran a finger down the line of needles hidden in her skirt, and tried to regain her exposure.

"I do know them," she added, "Hivvis and Truli."

"Hivvis I knew, the old bastard was meandering about offering his nonsense when I was a padawan. Tell me about the other, this Truli."

"He's a pompous little shivat," she said, "I don't know how he was chosen by Hivvis, but when I saw him six months ago he hadn't changed any."  
She went to her knees, any imagine device would show a repentant slave begging for forgiveness, "I struck him once, when he whispered that Rens turned and joined the Sith so he wouldn't have to come home to such a poor excuse for a Padawan."

"I hate him."

"That wasn't why Rens left, but if he'd had any sense it should've been a factor in his decision. Now scream for the hololens..."

He sent a jolt through her body from his hand.

She dropped as her muscles spasmed beneath his power, managing to roll onto her back to put on a better show. He was using more energy than he had for Vrook's holodrama, and she couldn't stop herself from shrieking.

"Now worship at my feet and beg for forgiveness," he said matter-of-factly. "When we arrive at the Commerce House, I'm going to leave you here for being a bad little slave. You'll find an opportunity to slip away and scout the building, external exits and the like, current-floor layout, and anything that might be interesting. Don't be caught, of course."

"Yes Master, it will be done."

She pushed herself up on her trembling arms and curled herself into the full submission. She pressed her lips softly to his boot, murmuring gratitude for his correction of her unforgivable behavior.

He shoved her away with his boot. "Now go sit in the corner, the picture of remorse and regret. Bronus, come sit in my lap and entertain me."  
Bronus crawled up into his lap, looping an arm around his neck. She played with the clasp of his cloak and, in what was possibly a theatrical maneuver and possibly not, cast a smug look over at Iocina.

The craft slipped back up into the atmosphere, breaching out of the toxic fog and into what passed for clean air on Nar Shaddaa, speeding toward its destination.

She flushed, squirming with pain and fear as she huddled into corner. She tucked her face into her knees and shivered. She was frightened, almost as frightened as her first night in his presence, but now she knew how to use it. She pulled it in, drew it through the growing flame of the dark side and transformed it into anger. She set it aside, tucking it away for when she needed it.  
She was beginning to think this was how Ullan could manipulate his own emotions like a console. Putting a little anger aside with every annoyance. Building it up into something that could explode in the proper direction...

He killed the privacy field when the airship landed and pushed out of the aircar. "Come along slave," he beckoned Bronus. "You! Slave! You don't get to lounge about in comfort here! Go away! Go sit on the landing pad and reflect on your stupidity. I'll collect you when I return. Maybe."

He strode off with Bronus at his heel, leaving a confused Sullustan standing by the car. The Sullustan looked at her, gave a small 'Masters, what are you gonna do?' shrug and then leaned on the hood as he lit up a deathstick.

She gave him a terrified look and went to sit in an out of the way corner. Her skirts were full with two slits up the front for ease of movement, but she caught up the edges and tucked them around her legs. She didn't want to look like an advertisement, although if she had somehow been marked as belonging to a Sith she doubted anyone would dare approach her.

A tiny flicker of amusement rose her spirits. Except maybe a Jedi; that would be my luck, Master Hivvis rounding the corner and rushing to my rescue.

She settled into a breathing exercise, gathering up what Rens had called a Force net. Others had different names for it, a sweep for instance. She had done a bit before, searching for Rens and tasting the emotions in The Desarane, but one this large would take a moment. She expanded her awareness to her surroundings, ten meters at first. She could sense the Sullastan driver, calm and relaxed. He had nothing to fear because he was doing as he was told. There were three other people in her immediate area, a Rodian in an alley who was barely conscious and two human males waiting in a speeder further down the street. Their minds were hard to read, they did spice as they waited for their employer.

Further out and she was able to create a map of all the life forms within her roughly kilometer wide range. She glanced up, knowing no life forms were paying attention to her and looked for hololenses, finding only three on this side of the building. It was simple to direct them away as she passed beneath them, moving them back in place to avoid suspicion. Slipping around the corner she began to carefully explore.

The Commerce Authority was a massive building, occupying over sixty levels. Even with computerization and droids to handle routine labors, the sheer scope of the Hutt commercial empires required tremendous amounts of space and manpower. They had landed at the mid-level of the Commerce Authority's tower, with the thirty floors plunging down into a lower level, where the building then transformed into some less prestigious civilian area.

The mid-levels were reserved for guests of high prestige, those with whom the Hutts would deign to treat with directly. The aircars in the neighborhood were expensive, shiny, and well-equipped. While the area around was covered with the usual Nar Shaddaa filth, the building itself was a shining beacon, perhaps the cleanest and most well-kept building on the entire planet.

And there were Jedi inside.

Iocina paused, drawing her net back away from the presences she'd felt. Did they sense me? she thought, her heartbeat speeding slightly, waiting for any hint or questioning probe. She bit the tip of her tongue again, a compromise of comfort versus biting her lip which was an obvious sign of weakness, More important, do they know me? if it was Hivvis he would recognize her mind. He'd mediated with her often, before and after Rens departure. She'd never meditated with Truli, had avoided any contact with him that she could manage.

The touch was light, distracted. If they'd noticed, they hadn't pursued. Perhaps she'd stayed hidden in the towering inferno of darkness that Ullan had gathered to himself down below. That was certainly a presence they wouldn't miss, even in a building that seemed steeped in the Dark Side.

Before pulling out, she sensed predatory avarice radiating from the building, as though the greed of its owners had soaked into its very fabric.

This was a structure built for those who took and gave nothing in return. Perhaps an ideal place for a Sith.

She hoped the Jedi were uncomfortable in the heart of this place. She continued to prowl, creating a mental map of entrances and exits, of security guards and droids, and the location of every hololens she could see. Tentatively she began to feed the information through the bond, unsure if this was what he intended for her to do.

He accepted the feed through the bond without returning any comment or emotion.

Would her master want her to take the initiative? Would he punish her for going inside? She wasn't sure, and frankly for all she knew he'd punish her for being useless by staying out in the speeder lot. She went to an entrance she'd marked as being for servants and slaves and pulled her subservient mask on before entering, putting in the three number code she'd made note of. There was no one in the little alcove, and she cast her net out again very delicately. The Jedi weren't near here, and she hadn't expected them to be. She went forward, seeking the tiny flicker of light drowning in darkness. She wouldn't approach them yet, not unless Ullan got there first.

She slipped into the building quietly, giving herself the air of someone who knew where they were going while trying to look harmless. That wasn't difficult in the revealing costume, people tended to assume pretty females were lacking mentally and pretty female slaves might as well been brain dead as far as those in power were concerned. That aided her here, so long as she looked to be on an errand she was left alone.

Part of it could have been that she wore a nearly identical costume to Bronus, who was obviously owned by a Sith Lord. Only one guard stopped her, asking her business. She only trembled slightly and said her master had sent for her. He gave her a small shove and let her continue on her way.

Some people just needed to put you in the box they expect you to be in before they ignore you...

The invisibility of a slave worked well for her as she flitted through the building, that and the timely bumps the Force could give about who was paying attention and who wasn't. She wasn't in any deep security areas yet, but she had free movement around the common areas where outsiders were allowed.

Inside, there was a constant, frantic energy at work. Even in times of peace, the Commerce Authority was a place of action, a place where a bureaucrat's decision could see a system given massive largess in the form of large scale construction projects such as fleet shipyards, or doom a colonial system to slow starvation as being too out of the way and unworthy of further support.

In wartime, the building was chaos, as worlds changed hands, privateers and pirates from both sides ran amok, and the necessity to maintain neutrality between a massive Republic and a resurgent Sith empire demanded constant fine adjustment. People moved briskly down the halls, intent on their various arcane purposes. Arguments and pleas could be heard from room after room, carried on in over a dozen different languages.

This was the daily life of the Commerce Authority now.

Ullan rode in this temple of deceit and desperation, siphoning its energy. He was deliberately moving toward the Jedi now, his purpose focused.  
The confrontation he sought was likely not violent, from what she could feel across the connection he was setting the pieces in place for the eventual conflict that had to, had to, come between them.

Light must challenge darkness, darkness must engulf light. Straddling the two worlds as she still did, she had a strangely objective view of the inevitability of these conflicts.

She began to work her way towards the Jedi as well, trying to time her approach to enter at her Master's back. A few more floors up she met her first real challenge. A male Twi-lek guard halted her, a leering smile on his face. She smiled up at him, "Has my Master passed by this way?" she said quietly.

"I see many powerful men here, slave, which one would he be?" he leaned in, moving to stroke a hand down her cheek. Just before he made contact with her skin she answered, giving a description of Ullan. His hand stopped.

She could feel a tickle of fear in him, she prodded at it. "Please, my Lord summoned me." she put two fingers to her temple as though her head ached, intimating that the Sith had some control over her mind, "I need to come through."

It was harder with some of the non-humans to manipulate their minds. She couldn't force him to do anything, only give him a little touch to point him in the direction she needed him to go. She hooked mental fingers into his fear, sent a little pain in. She could sense his thoughts, swelling fear that the Sith's power could be directed at him.

"Yes, of course." his voice wasn’t quite steady as he keyed the door open.

Close. Close now. Two pillars were converging, light and dark. Around her, tension was rocketing in the building, the arguments growing louder and more desperate. She could sense Ullan's growing fury, and now, close by, Hivvis gathering himself, meditating, clearing his mind.

He showed no signs of detecting her as yet. Ullan's dark cloud was proving remarkably effective.

As she entered a new passageway, one disturbing factor stood out.

The Jedi were between her and Ullan.

She made a small sound, a little fear noise that drew the Jedi’s attention. Master Hivvis looked just as she remembered him, pale blue flesh bright against his dark brown robes. Beside him Truli had his eyes locked on Ullan, long blond hair tamed into a long tail down his back.

Ullan stood, hand on his lightsaber hilt. "Ah yes, you've met my other slave before. Come here, worm."

Her shoulders hunched, arms curling to wrap around just below her breasts. She drew her fear up, causing tears to spill over her cheeks as she stepped between her old master's friend and his Padawan. She flicked a terrified glance up in his face, then away. She'd never been good at reading his expression and didn't have the time to try to learn Chagrian body language.

She could play more afraid than she really was, distract them, let Ullan do whatever it was he was going to do…

Truli, however, let out a hissing breath. She couldn't be sure if it was fear, anger, or disgust without touching his mind, he'd always been as closed off as Vrook. It was probably why he got away with being such a bully.

"Iocina," Hivvis said, "you don't have to go to him."

"She's a legally registered slave on a world where that is permitted," Ullan taunted. "By the laws of Nar Shaddaa, she has to do exactly that."

"She's a Jedi padawan, not a slave, no matter what the law says!" Truli said. "Iocina, come back here!"

"So you don't care about the local laws," Ullan said, looking significantly at the others in the room. "Are you here to liberate all the slaves, or simply the ones you know?"

She hovered in the space between them and Darth Ullan, shoulders shaking. "Master?" she whispered, beginning to turn back towards the Jedi. She wasn’t certain now if she was acting. 

"Worm, come here now," Ullan growled.

Truli started to move toward her, only to be stopped by Hivvis putting a hand on his forearm. The Chagrian's eyes met hers and she felt the lightest touch on her mind, familiar, gentle and comforting.

The message was brief and purely a feeling, an assurance.

I will come for you.

Then she was flying back through the air, to slam down hard at Ullan's feet.

She grunted in pain as she hit the floor, sprawling on her face on the cold duracrete. She made a show of trying to move, as though she was weakened. It was almost not an act, she was hungry and thirsty. She projected that too, lifting her face up to Truli's as she gave a soft sob. She loved the pain on his face, the flicker of anger. But his Master.... she avoided his eyes. That gentle touch had unnerved her, shaken the very core of her resolve and she needed to hate him for that.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. To any onlookers she could have been apologizing to either Ullan or Hivvis. 

Ullan stomped her hand. "Kiss the boot, worm."

"NO!"

Truli flew through the air, lightsaber arcing down at Ullan's head. Ullan deflected the strike with his arm, then snatched Iocina up with the Force and drove her headfirst into Truli's stomach.

She screamed and it was far too loud in this enclosed space. Their audience moved back and some fled altogether to get away from the battle. Truli managed to recover barely, snapping off his blade before impaling Iocina. Her grabbed hold of her and tried to pull her out of Ullan's range. She oh so helpfully made his struggle harder by going almost limp, it was surprising how much heavier someone seemed to be when they weren't helping you move them at all.

Ullan locked a vice grip of the Force around her wrist, completely dislocating her shoulder as he snatched her back.

Truli reactivated his lightsaber, moving forward to resume the battle, when Hivvis stepped in the way. The Jedi master had not lifted his lightsaber and stood between the combatants.

"I was assaulted!" Ullan screamed. "He tried to kill a peaceful envoy!"

Through the connection she could sense the artifice behind his apparent rage, the calculation at work.

Truli was the breaking point in the entire situation. Properly stressed, he would collapse everything around him.

There was more in there, but it was cloaked from her. A deeper plan at work. "I demand satisfaction." He growled to the official standing nearby.

She hung from her useless arm, small sobs wracking her body. She followed the line of thought and thrust her pain and fear at Truli, infecting him with desperation. She struggled in Ullan's grip, her good hand trying to free her injured arm from his grip.

Her struggles slowed as if she were weakening further, sent a soft thread of the Force towards the Padawan, help me she whispered, voice fading as if being swallowed by dark water. She remembered the feeling she'd gotten from Rens' holocron as it was hidden in Ullan's baggage, a light wavering in the darkness on the verge of snuffing out. She focused on the memory and let it color her aura.

"The padawan assaulted a guest of the clans with deadly intent," the official was saying.

"A mistake for which he will be punished," Hivvis said calmly. "Restitution will be made to the clans."

"I demand satisfaction," Ullan repeated.

"You will get none," Hivvis said.

Truli paced behind him, his master’s protection agitating him further.

"Then you will have to leave. Both of you," the official said. "Trespass must be answered to the offended's satisfaction."

"There is no fear," Truli intoned. "I am ready, master."

"The boy thinks he's ready, Hivvis," Ullan pointed out. "I would like to test that."

He sent a pulse of shock through Iocina with his metal arm. "I could use another padawan slave, this one was clearly defective."

+

Hivvis tried to release his grief to the force, a mask of calm serenity still on his face. Iocina jerked as Ullan's dark side lightening washed over her, then went completely limp. He reached out to her, soothing as many hurts as he could. He could do nothing for the fresh injury but there were so many more. A circle of inflamed skin on her left arm that was becoming infected, strain in her other shoulder and her left knee spoke of past dislocations, hunger and dehydration. There was a loop of tiny pinpricks around her hips, minor skeletal calcification, and dozens of bruises. He soothed them, seeing her body relax the tiniest fraction.

Darkness, as much as the growing infection in what he assumed was a bite wound, polluted her soul. She was trying to hide it, but she was no Sith master and he could sense it taking root in her. Did she think he would abjure her, Is that why she was masking it with her pain and fear? She was only a Padawan, a seasoned knight would have given in after being subjected to undivided attention of a Sith bent on turning them.

+

Iocina winced at the touch of the light healing energy that encircled her, losing some of her hold on her anger. Why did he have to do this? Why was even Truli trying to defend her? He should have been feeling vindicated, knowing that he'd been right about her and about the weakness of Yuld's teachings.

Hold to the light child, another gentle touch on her mind, You have nothing to fear from me.

The Hutt official looked between the parties. "An assault was given, a challenge has been taken, and the Jedi may either carry the challenge or forsake position."

"I am ready," Truli said, lightsaber in his hand.

"Fearsome," Ullan said dryly. He nudged Iocina over and rested his boot on her throat. "But what does your master say?"

Hivvis studied them. "We must forfeit, then."

"No!" Truli said. "I accept!"

"Stand down, padawan. We have lost here today."

"We don't have to!" Truli said. "I can defeat him! I'm ready!"

"The padawan does not speak for the Jedi Council," Hivvis said. "Or for himself."

"By the law of Nar Shaddaa, unless he is your slave then he does," Ullan said. "Are you a slave, boy? Do you belong down here?" He ground down on Iocina's neck. "There's room..."

Iocina lay very still, heart and thoughts racing. She couldn't look at the Jedi anymore, not when she was feeling weakness creeping up on her. She could only look up at the line of Ullan's body. Her ears were ringing and she couldn't make out what was being said. Truli sounded equal parts excited and angry; Hivvis' voice calm and measured. The only words she could make out were Ullan's mocking. His boot came down on her throat, nearly closing off her airway entirely.

"I am no slave, Sith, and neither is she. She's a padawan of the Jedi."

"Then meet me," Ullan said "and prove it. Save your little friend, even."

"Truli," Hivvis said, his voice rising slightly.

"No! We've given up too much to them already! They attack and we retreat! We need to stand for something, master!"

Ullan turned his eyes on Hivvis. "Now this sounds familiar."

"The words of the Revanchist," Hivvis said. "You are walking down their path."

"Oh please," Ullan said. "Revan was much more articulate than that. Anyway, accept the challenge or fall away and lose everything, boy."  
"I will kill you," Truli said. "Here and now."

"Not here!" the official said. "You cannot fight in the War Administration Chamber!"

"If he wins, the slaves go to him," Ullan said. "If I win, well, we'll resume negotiation in good faith with our esteemed opposite numbers, or number, as the case may be."

He lifted his foot off of Iocina. "Crawl along with me, worm. I'm sure the Hutts have an excellent locale for this."

Iocina rolled to her knees, right arm still dangling useless. It took a little squirming to maneuver her knees through the slits in her skirt so she would fall on her face by tripping on the fabric. She could hear Truli make a soft growling protest and Hivvis' soft rebuke. Crawling was more of an effort, one arm dragging at her side. She was slow and stumbling as she tried to keep up with Ullan's long stride. The official who'd told them to move to an appropriate location for a duel positioned himself between the two Jedi and Ullan, keeping them out of reach of Iocina.

Hivvis and Truli argued quietly as they were led to a high courtyard. Word had apparently spread by personal comms, and quite a crowd was forming to watch a miniature of the conflict raging across the stars. A few comm droids from local news services had even arrived.

"You will be cast from the order," Hivvis said, the urgency in his voice rising.

"If that's what has to be, it has to be," Truli shot back. "At least she'll be free of the Sith."

"So heroic. Sad that you're on the wrong side," Ullan said.

The courtyard was commonly used for meals and parties among the high administration, and was luxuriously appointed. Slaves began to move the tables and chairs back to clear an area, but Ullan held up a hand.

"It will do as it is. We won't be responsible for anyone who stands too close, though."

He cast away his cloak, the winds threatening to snatch it away before Bronus neatly caught it and began folding it.

"Slave, attend me and wish for my victory," he ordered Iocina, even as a contradictory impulse arrived along their connection.

Defy me.

 

Iocina swallowed down very real fear and licked her lips. Yes Master.

She gave a small sob and collapsed onto her good arm, "I won't," she whispered, just loud enough for the Jedi and closest onlookers to hear. She shook her head, black curls floating around her face. She curled herself into a ball, her injured arm protected against her body as though awaiting a vicious attack.

"If you will not serve me, you will die!" he declared dramatically, raising a sparking hand. He got one good lightning bolt into her before Truli was on him, lightsaber flashing.

Truli was a savant at the Juyo style, perhaps the best swordsman of his generation of peers. He pressed home his attack, allowing his emotions to freely pour out at last. Ullan fell back, his lightsaber finally in play and slashing furiously to hold back against the padawan's wild rush.

The blades clashed together as the spectators erupted in glee, delighted to see in person something they'd only witnessed in holos, both real and drama. Ullan kept drawing him out, using the terrain to his advantage, maneuvering past chairs and over tables.

Iocina could sense Hivvis move slightly closer to her, concern for both her and his Padawan coloring his aura. She wasn't sure what Ullan would want her to do; simply watch the battle or try and manipulate the Jedi Master into trying to help her. She could feel the violence building in Truli, the burning anger that she'd sensed in him when they were younger.

She couldn't stop herself from looking up at the Jedi Master, his grave face locked on the combat. He knew he couldn't interfere, and he wasn't confident that his Padawan could defeat the Sith Lord no matter his skill with a blade. He glanced down at her, meeting her eyes with compassion, and she looked away.

 

Truli leaped across a table, blade crashing down on the Sith's saber with all his strength. He was motivated not only by disgust and and anger at the Sith who'd made a cringing slave of one of the most kind and compassionate Padawan he'd known, but by fear and guilt. He feared he would fail, that Iocina would be killed or tortured into madness.

If she fell, would she believe it was because her instruction had been flawed as he'd told her many times? He'd been parroting things overheard from the older Padawans and some of the Knights, and had seen Master Vrook chastise her often for failing to uphold the code. He'd learned much from Master Hivvis and had become ashamed of the cruel words he'd subjected his peers to. He'd intended to apologize to Iocina when they returned to Dantooine to report on these negotiations.

Now, if he couldn't save her, he'd have never made things right before they died.

Ullan feigned confusion, allowing Truli to drive him back toward the edge of the roof. He leapt away at the last second, stepping up to a railing and taking a moment apparently compose himself.

"You are powerful," he said.

"More than you know," Truli said, leaping up to the rail after him.

A shard of cortosis flew through the air, intercepting him under the chin and sending him spinning past the edge, only to have his fall arrested as Ullan snatched him from the air, holding him over the abyss.

"And stupid," Ullan said.

"No," Hivvis said. Iocina could feel grief welling within him, the pain of loss. Faces flashed before her- Revan, Malak, a much younger Ullan, still unfamiliar to her, and others, friends and comrades lost in the late wars. "NO!"

Cortosis shards flew out, sleeting into Truli's body, gouging great chunks of meat away with a shower of blood.

Hivvis turned, pulled with the Force, yanking Iocina into his arms. He leapt away, plunging over the side.

As they sailed down into the darkness, she felt a new message along the link.

Do kill the vermin for me before you come back.

The words gouged deep into her heart, as vicious and deadly as the cortosis blades had gone though Truli's body. Hivvis cradled her gently, his massive strength holding her tightly as they fell. She barely felt them land on a catwalk, realizing he must have slowed their descent with the Force.

There, bleeding out, they found the broken body of the dying Padawan. Hivvis reached out a hand, shifting Iocina slightly to clasp Truli's fingers.

"Master, I'm sorry," he choked on blood, "get her out of here please." He looked up at Iocina, eyes growing dim, "I never got to say I..." he went limp, his shadowed light going out of the Force.

Hivvis closed his student's eyes and stood. He looked down at the broken young woman, fear and indecision on her face. Like as not she was still under Ullan's control, her mind taken as completely as her body. He touched a finger of his free hand to her temple and sent a command into her unprotected mind, sleep. Once, not so long ago, she'd had impressive mental shields. Yuld had been so proud of her, had such hope for her future. Had she found Yuld, only for him to be defeated by Ullan and he'd captured her? Had Yuld been the one to begin her downfall?

He jumped to another catwalk, the Force speeding his steps as he bolted towards his ship.

Iocina had hesitated too long, had let her memories cloud her resolve to obey her Master. Before she could make what was the most important decision of her life, it was taken from her. Hivvis imposed his will on her, sending her down into a healing trance before she could even begin to raise a defense against him...


	2. The Needle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You obviously haven't seen Ullan fly," Revan said in an amused tone. "Sometimes, gentlebeings, a needle is better than a hammer."

Iocina woke, lying in a comfortable bunk, swaddled in kolto patches for her many wounds. A ship hummed around her, the distinctive sound of a well-tuned vessel doing its business.

A compact medical droid lifted a manipulator away from her. "Oh Mistress, you are awake! I will summon Master Hivvis."

Iocina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. For the first time in days she was warm and comfortable, no aching joints or half healed wounds. The dark side had technically undone the damage Ullan had inflicted on her, but it had left all the pain to linger in her mind of not her body. She tried to rise and was disturbed to find she was strapped down. Her arm, with a needle attached to a bag of nutritive serum, she would understand needing to be held still; but there were straps locking her into the bunk.

"Please don't try to move," the droid insisted. "Master Hivvis is on the way, he will explain everything."

Hivvis arrived moments later, his face once more a gentle, compassionate mask.

"Iocina," he said "you're safe now."

She couldn't help but shake her head slowly, "You don't understand," she whispered. Her voice was rough from all the screaming she'd done while Ullan had tortured her to start his conflict with Truli. Chaos, he'd said was his gift. Well it was working on her. Her mind was in chaos, yearning in two wildly different directions. Safety and a chance of redemption, balanced on the razor's edge between danger and a chance at transcending the limits of her power. She felt his hand stroke back a lock of damp hair from her forehead. Either he or the droid had washed it, cleaned her whole body of dirt and sweat.

"No," he admitted "I don't. But you can help me to understand, help me to help you. We thought you were lost. When that message arrived at the Council..."

She felt something different from him. Ullan had stirred something within. Anger, fear, the emotions were being rigidly driven down even as they arose, but it was a far cry from the mildly impassive Jedi she'd always known.

"Did you watch?" she asked, her legs pressing together unconsciously. She saw him notice the movement before focusing again on her face.

"That was after only two days." she said, "I'd already sworn to him by then."

She was silent for a moment, "He has Yuld's spirit trapped in a holocron on his ship. I sensed it, on Virago, he was keeping it in his pocket. He had a mask and I thought he was my Master." two tears spilled down the sides of her face as she stared at the bulkhead above her. "Now he is."

"No, he is not," Hivvis said emphatically. "We can help you. You are back with the Order. There is nothing to be afraid of here. You know me, Iocina. You know I will protect you."

"But you didn't," she said, "Why didn't you take me after Yuld disappeared? Why did you leave me with Vrook? He hates me."

"Vrook is a Jedi Master, he does not hate," Hivvis said. "He has his own way of teaching and his own wisdom. You will see that in time."  
He patted her arm. "You need more rest, child."

"Can I get up?" she asked, knowing the answer before it left her mouth.

"Not yet," he said. "We are discussing how best to handle your situation. It's rare that we recover... anyone, in a state like this. There are questions about your loyalties now. The best way to allay those is to cooperate."

She gritted her teeth, "A situation?" she asked. She felt a stirring of anger, like a fish rising in deep dark water. I should rest, she told herself, I can't do anything when I'm so exhausted and hungry. She wasn't sure if she was lying to herself. She did feel weak and tired, was it just the need to recover or... she glanced up at the bag attached to her arm. A sedative?

The glyphs on the bag were in obscure medical code that it took her a moment to translate, but she was indeed being sedated.

"You are not a situation," he said "you are a padawan in a situation, one that we hope to resolve soon. You have the full support of the Order behind you, the finest healers will be attending to you."

Her temper cooled somewhat, and she felt even more conflicted which was probably his goal in the first place.

"Can I... may I have something to eat?" she asked wistfully, she knew now that he'd seen the transmission. Had seen her grovelling and begging forgiveness for stealing food. Maybe he'd let her sit up to eat it if he could supervise. Real food might cushion the effect of the sedative at the very least, and she could gather her thoughts to make a decision. She was having trouble focusing her mind. She experimentally tested her Force bond with Ullan, hoping and fearing the connection was still open. She couldn't be certain there wasn't a neural blocker in the sedative to dampen her connection to the Force. It wasn't something that was usually kept on Jedi's vessel. She'd seen several vials of it in the med-kit on the Sith ship Ullan had commandeered from Malak of course.

She was undamped, and she could feel Ullan, far away. Still, the bond was stronger than it had been when Rens had fled the Order. She could feel him, and moreover, he could feel her. She felt nothing from him, no directions, no imperatives, simply a dark presence that would not depart until one of them was dead.

"Of course you can," he gestured to the droid, which brought her a warm cup of nutrient broth to sip from, holding it up toward her mouth.

"This will promote the healing, Mistress," the droid said.

A flash of resentment was visible in her eyes as she willingly opened her mouth to take small mouthfuls of. She'd had this before when she'd been ill and it had tasted vile then, but she savored the taste now. Slightly salty and very rich, it was thicker than real meat broth and coated and soothed her mouth and throat. She realized her tongue was slightly swollen, she must have bitten it when she'd been electrocuted the last time.

She had to gasp as she sucked down the last of the liquid, her stomach cramping slightly. It was the first thing she'd had since the ration bar and she hadn't realized how badly she needed food. Had she been sustaining herself on her anger? It wouldn't have likely lasted much longer and she'd probably have been willing to be tortured again for stealing food if she could just eat something.

"Where are we going?" she asked, telling herself she'd just play along. Somehow having Ullan's presence in her mind was bizarrely comforting. Why would having the Sith Lord who'd been torturing her, who'd nearly broken her, near in spirit be such a soothing thought?

"Dantooine," he said. "The full Council will be seeing you, to learn what we can of the situation, especially after Revan's death."  
He patted her arm. "When you are cleared, I will present the case that you should be my padawan."

"How long?" she asked, "Until we get there?" She needed to know how long she had to make a decision. Did she have time to try and work the sedative out of her system? Yuld had been able to do that, but she'd never learned. She thought she could do it, but she'd need time. She needed focus to manipulate the restraints with the Force; she might not be under the influence of a neural block but the drug in her body suppressed her ability to concentrate properly.

"I'm scared." she whispered, speaking the whole truth. Force, she didn't know what to do. This being loved her, she had loved him once. Did she still have love in her? Did love count as passion, or did it hinder her ability to touch the dark side. She wanted to test it, to touch the core of anger/pain/fear/pleasure in her soul and draw some of it out. She reached for it, yearning for anything to give her clarity.

His face crumbled slightly in the face of her naked fear. "Say it with me. There is no emotion, there is peace..."

She opened her mouth to repeat the words, but nothing came out. "There is no peace," she said, her voice flat and hard.

"How long?" she repeated.

"Three days transit," he said. He gently brushed the hair away from her brow. "Let me help you, Iocina."

She felt him touch her mind again and flinched away as much as the restraints would allow, "Don't touch me." she hissed, "If you'd taken me when Yuld left none of this would have happened." the anger was driving some of the fog from her mind, but it had its own negative side effects. She couldn't keep herself from voicing her thoughts.

"Agreed," he said. "But at the time, it seemed the right move. Vrook insisted that he could best carry forth with your training and assist you in releasing your attachment to Yuld. It was a mistake, one that has cost us greatly."

"Just leave me alone," she snapped, then hesitated and added, "Please. I'm having trouble thinking." She closed her eyes and turned her head away, as though she intended to go to sleep. Could she sleep some more? Would the sedative keep her under until it was too late and they were at the Enclave? Nothing was stopping Hivvis from upping the dose and rendering her incapable of waking until he had her under complete control after all.

"If you need me, just inform 3N here and I will come immediately," he said. "Iocina, I'm sorry."  
He departed, leaving her with the lights dimmed, the droid vigilantly watching over her.

She stared at the bulkhead for what must have been hours. She needed to get the sedative out, needed to be able to think. The bag was still half full, the slow drip more than enough to last twenty for hours or so. She had choices to make, and she did need to rest... she could feel sleep dragging her under. Iocina glanced at the droid, 3N. "Will you wake me up before you change this?" she asked, forcing her voice to be calm and even, "I haven't been allowed to eat for days and the nutrients are alright but I need solid food. I'd like to be able to eat before you change it out, ok?" She'd have two days.

"Of course, Mistress. Sleep well, I will attend to all your needs. Poor thing..."

She let the drug pull her down into sleep. 

She floated in a vast darkness, as weightless as she'd been locked in a suit tethered to the Maiden's hull. Emptiness stretched in all directions until she roused herself to look around. Beneath her feet the plains of Dantooine began to unfurl, green and verdant. Iocina could see the Enclave in the distance, just at the edge of the horizon. She could hear laughter and voices but they grated on her ears, tapping painfully in her brain. Something whispered against the back of her neck and she turned away, seeing a squat black monolith on opposite horizon.

Iocina took a step toward it, curious. Was this something she'd seen before, it felt familiar but she was sure she'd never seen it before. It tugged at the empty parts of her soul she'd given up to the dark side, whispering that they could be filled - healed - if she made her decision. She began to walk toward it.

“We have been here before.”

The words echoed in her brain.

“All of us. The cycle never ends, and the cycle is necessary, like a wildfire that cleanses the forest.”

She couldn't recognize the voice, it was neither male nor female, organic nor droid.

She hesitated, a feeling she didn't even have a name for making her pause. Something like the sense of fight or flight that nearly all sentients had when confronted with danger. She knew that this was the moment when everything would become clear, all she had to do was decide to go forward and find out the answers to the questions festering in her mind, or go back. Going back was enticing, it was safe and she could let others make her decisions for her. A chance to turn aside more fear and pain, but there would be no growth either. Stagnation was where she'd come from, and uncertainty waited beneath the shadow of the ruins. She'd always been too curious for her own good, Vrook had said.  
She went forward, steps only slightly cautious as she approached the building. The smooth cold stone seemed to absorb all light, casting none of it back as reflections. She reached out tentatively and touched its surface.

Suddenly she was elsewhere, out in the sun-kissed fields that surrounded the temple on Dantooine.

"Are you coming with us?"

When she saw the man, it was Ullan.

And yet not.

Younger. Unscarred. Light of heart, his hair a sandy blond and his face pleasant, with a warm smile.

"We're leaving tonight. To fight the Mandalorians."

"Who... Ullan?" she asked, drawing his name out as though she'd never spoken it. The Ullan she knew was still handsome, despite his scars and the sense of deadly danger that surrounded him, but this Ullan was gentle and the Light shown from his eyes. She was unnerved how much she preferred 'her' Ullan to this youth.

Something dragged at her shoulders and she looked down, she wore the full robes of the order instead of the skimpy dancing girl costume she'd been wearing, or the soft loose britches and tunic she was wearing in the medical bay.

"Jedi Knight Ullan, for at least a few more hours," he said. "I doubt they'll let us back in after this, but it's worth it."

He looked her over. "You know, I always feel that whenever I see a beautiful woman in Jedi robes, I think 'What a waste'. I know we're not supposed to think like that, but I do."

He stepped to her side, leaned toward her conspiratorially. "Are you going to tell on us, padawan?"

Iocina sidled slightly away, trying to keep him in her view. "I won't tell." she said quietly, then added, "Master Rens said I couldn't come."

Was she still dreaming, or was Ullan reaching her somehow through the bond? She couldn't know for sure, but she still had the feeling she was on the verge of understanding something far greater than herself.

"Rens?" he said. "Iocina, then. He talks about you a lot. I think he thinks beautiful women in robes are a waste too, but maybe I'm reading too much into it. Maybe for the best, though. We need some people with sense left behind. Maybe it'll jar the rest of those stuffy old bastards into doing something different."

He hefted a rock with the Force, twirling it around. "You know what the problem is? Freedom."

"What do you mean?" she asked. Ullan had told her that there was no such thing as falling, only being free.

"Vrook told me once that freedom is the most corrosive force known in the galaxy. He didn't mean it badly, or at least he doesn't think so. But it's what he's afraid of. Why do you pen in farm animals? So they won't stampede. Why do you lock in padawans? So they'll obey. Freedom causes problems. Freedom is what allows the Mandalorians to run rampant and strip worlds. It all comes back to freedom, how much we have, how much we let others have. The most sensible thing, of course, is to reserve the most for yourself, and give the least to others."

He chuckled and flung his arm, using the Force to launch the rock as far away as he could. "Of course, you can go down some pretty dark paths if you follow that to its logical conclusion. But still, the Order has done it instinctively. It's the same as any other institution, its primary purpose once created is to protect itself."

"What do you believe? Do you think that freedom is something that should be controlled by other people? I'm starting to thing that's not right." she looked down at her feet.

"I'm not sure how to put it, but I've been feeling like I'm trapped in a pen myself and I don't know where the gate is. Its like someone is always moving it just out of reach and I don't have any say in anything in my life. The Order controls everything, even when I am supposed to eat and sleep," she rubbed the bridge of her nose and shrugged. "I'm probably saying it wrong, I've never had thoughts like these before. Everything seemed so clear just a few days ago, the way my life would go."

She crouched, looking up at him as she played with stems of purple tipped grass. "Its so easy, letting other people make your choices for you. You get used to it when you're raised that way I guess."

He nodded. "I'm not talking about slavery, I'm just pointing out what's in the best interest of an institution."

He waved his hand at the waiting transport. "If I wanted to take freedom away, would I be going off to fight for worlds I've never even heard of? I could just stay here until I got on the council."

"That's what I wanted too. To help people.Would you want to be on the council someday, if you didn't follow Revan?" she asked curiously.

"No!" he said emphatically. "I belong out there." He flung his hand at the sky. "Moving and doing, going where the Force takes, not sitting around arguing with other fossils about why we can't do things. I can't think of a worse place to be. Even the good masters get frozen in the web there."

"That's what I always thought I'd do, once I was a Knight. Go take my light into dark places and find a way to change things for the better," she said, smiling slightly. " I wanted to make some kind of difference, but," she turned away looking out over the plains with her back to the Enclave, "I don't think I'll ever get to do that. I'm too weak."

"A survivor is never weak," he said. "Have faith, padawan."

He leaned close to her. "Hey, since I'm about to go fight on faraway worlds, maybe a goodbye kiss?"

She bit her lip and felt herself flush, "Why not?" she said, voice slightly shaky. She turned her face up toward him.

He pulled her in, his kiss carrying the same hungry passion as the first one he'd given her. "Do you want to see what happens next?" he whispered in her ear.

She clenched a fist at her side, she didn't want to see - didn't want to know, but she needed to.

"Yes."

"Of course you do. Ignorance is weakness and only cowards fear knowledge."

//

She faded from being, becoming a fly on the wall. Revan stood before a bedraggled group, mixed Jedi and Republic military alike. "We need a win," he said. "We have the production, we have the troops, we have the plans. But we need something to hold hearts strong until they ask come together."

As she became more aware of their surroundings, she realized this was a briefing room on a ship, but a battered one. Carbon scoring painted the walls, and some of the fixtures were bent it melted. But the holoprojector still worked, and all eyes turned to it as Revan activated it.

A large, ugly Mandalorian cruiser sprang to life.

"The Imperial Will has been plaguing the commerce lanes from Ryloth to Sluis Van. We're going to remove it. Commander Karath will oversee the conversion of a freighter into a bomber launch platform. Knight commander Ullan will lead Hazard Squadron in a targeted strike against the hyperdrives. Once they are disabled, Alak and I will personally lead the boarding parties. "

"Sir, I still say we have better odds with the Gloriana jumping in and battering the drives with precision turbolaser fire. A group of snubfighters against a target that size."

"You obviously haven't seen Ullan fly," Revan said in an amused tone. "Sometimes, gentlebeings, a needle is better than a hammer."

"I'll be your gunner, sir."

Ullan turned toward the Twi'lek woman, his eyes shining mischievously. "First rule, chief Srin. I'm not an officer or a sir. Just a plain old renegade Jedi Knight on the run. Call me Ullan, please."

"Yes si... Ullan."

He slapped the hull of the bomber. "What do you think about the craft?"

"I think they're junk," she said. "Lousy design for a peacetime military. No deflectors to speak of, armor like paper. Only thing going for them is a bit of payload and a lot of speed."

He nodded and threw a hydrospanner in the toolbox by his feet. "True. But for what we're about to do, some payload and a lot of speed is exactly what we need. Once the commander blows the seals, we'll have a minute, tops, to hit the target hard enough to keep them from jumping out."

He looked around. "This is a survival optional type of mission, chief. I can't offer it to everyone, but just between you and me, if you have someplace better to be, I can find somebody else to ride in the other seat."

Srin threw him a mocking salute. "Been losing good people since this started, sir. Ullan. I'm not scared of dying."

"No?" he said. "Being scared of dying is the most sensible thing in the universe."

They say under the landing struts in the darkened hangar, staring at the stars through the magcon field.

"Not much of a commander," Ullan said. "I told you I wasn't proper military."

Srin took a pull from a bottle. "We got the job done."

"We were the only ones to walk away."

"We got the job done. Sir. We won a fight. You know how long it's been since we had something other than a brave retreat?"

She stood up and walked to the field. "You know how many flight crews I've seen get spaced for nothing? For some senator to make an escape. They died for something that mattered. Revan's plan, but you fired the shot."

He looked up at her. "What's that? In the bottle."

She tossed it to him. "Brandy. You like?"

He popped the lid off. "Never had it before. Guess I'll find out."

//

Ullan and Srin, older somehow, harder. They wore grubby utilities and carried blaster rifles.

"I need you to get to work," he said, pleading with a group of dim-looking natives. "If you want to live, we need those bulwarks up!"

Srin grabbed his elbow. "Ullan, they're slaves. Don't ask, order."

"They're free now!" he hissed at her.

"Whatever they are, if we don't get those earthworks in place by sundown the Mandies are going to push through this valley like nothing, and then they'll be free and dead."

He looked at her, then nodded and strode forward to jump up on a rock. He ignited a golden lightsaber and brandished it over his head. "Listen up, you worthless animals! Get to work right now, or it comes out of your sorry hides!"

He hopped back down, theatrically brandishing his lightsaber at the nearest group. Suitably inspired, they took up shovels and timbers, moving toward their labors.

"It had to be done," she said quietly.

He shrugged. "Story of the war."

He looked around at the mass of toiling laborers. "What even changes if we win?" he asked.  
"Figure that out when we win, right?"

He pulled himself more upright. "Time to go move some rocks." He grabbed her hand. "Survive."

Purple eyes met his. "Survive," she whispered back.

//

Torn, battered, and bloody, Ullan weaved between a squad of Mandalorians, lightsaber flashing. He wore piecemeal armor, a Republic chestplate, Mandalorian gauntlets and boots.

He impaled a Mandalorian on his lightsaber, then whirled and let a blaster bolt deflect off a gauntlet. The Mandalorians barked orders between themselves,trying to pin him down.

He was a cloud of death, lashing out with lightsaber and Force, striking men dead left and right.

At last he stood, bloody, burned, and bruised. Alone over a pile of dead Mandalorians.

He turned and staggered back, moving around the wreckage of a gunship. "Srin?"

"Still here," she whispered. Her lower body was pinned beneath the wreckage,her face ghostly pale. "You need to get out of here. Survive."

"Not going anywhere," he said.

"More of them are coming," she said.

"More dead men," he said.

"You can't kill them all," she said.

"Only so many on the planet," he said with a grin, but the light in his eyes was pure killing poison.

"Now would be a good time to remember the 'no attachments' rule," she suggested.

"Shut up chief, got some work to do."

He ignited the lightsaber and stalked forward.

"Shutting up, sir."

 

//

Suddenly she was embodied again. Ullan, the Ullan of the war, stood next to her, his armor still smoking. "So what do you see?"

"I've seen a lot of things," she said, "I see that the Republic is broken. Maybe it could be fixed, I don't know. But the way it is now, it might have to be broken down and sort of started over. Soldiers dying so that one petty official can survive is madness, one person is nothing really, a planetary government can always elect a new one. If one person has to be sacrificed for the greater good then so be it."

She sighed, "I'm not very good at articulating these things. I also see that the Jedi Order is flawed, but I don't know if it's the teachings themselves or the way the Council has been interpreting them."

"I can see that the Jedi are limiting themselves, claiming to want to have complete objectivity by abstaining from relationships. All it does is set us, them, apart from the rest of the galaxy. If the Council ever looked outside their closely guarded sphere of influence they would know that the further the gulf between the Jedi and the people they want to protect, the easier it is to turn your back on those same people. You start to care about 'the people' as one big impersonal whole, and not thinking about individuals."

"I see the Revanchists who volunteered to essentially throw themselves into almost certain death, not for the Republic or the Jedi or for personal glory. They did it for the people, not just the people whose planets have joined the Republic but everyone threatened by the Mandalorians. When they came back they were changed, but who wouldn't be? When you've seen and experienced what you have," she nodded at Ullan, "you can't come out of it seeing the universe the same way."

"I don't know if I'm making sense, but what I'm trying to say is I think I understand why the Sith are doing what their doing. The republic can't really be fixed, it needs to be broken and replaced with something that will properly govern the galaxy without little petty officials whose only use for power is the accumulation of more power. The Sith love power, and some use it to further their own greed and base desires, but Revan had it right. The needs of the galaxy are more important than allowing the Republic to stagnate because it's just been done that way for so long."

"The Jedi, well some are good people. Hivvis is a good person. I don't want to kill him, he means well and only wants to protect me. But not all the Jedi are like him; Vrook is the embodiment of everything that is wrong with the Order. He's unbending, not changing his perspective on a situational basis. He sees everything in complete black and white, without giving room for the subjective situations the Jedi face all the time. Jedi like him need to be purged, like a forest fire eating away the mast and dead growth so that what grows back is stronger. I don't know if the Jedi as a whole could stand up to that kind of fire, but the ones who do will be stronger for it."

She swallowed a lump in her throat, "I have my own weaknesses that need to be cleansed, but I went about it the wrong way. I started throwing out all the good things along with what needed to be cut away for new growth to flourish. I'm not sure how to go about doing it the right way, but I have to try."

She looked down at herself and she was clad in the stark white medical bay clothing, "I need to get out of here, and I was told to kill the one person who I think cares about me unconditionally in the entire universe. If I do that, will I lose a vital part of myself, or will I be doing something for the good of the galaxy?"

"I can't give you an answer to that, I'm just the revenant of a man who died and was reborn. What I can tell you is that you've been given freedom to make a decision here, but as is the usual, not the freedom from whatever consequences may arise."


	3. Dantooine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had to look away, "He told me to kill you."
> 
> He unclipped his lightsaber and held it out to her. "If that is your mission, then strike."

Waking was like dragging herself through mud, like crawling after Ullan with a dislocated shoulder. Slow and painful. Before she'd even opened her eyes Iocina knew everything had gone very wrong. She wasn't in a ship, and she wasn't alone. She was, however, still strapped to a bed. At least the straps were softer, the ones in the ships little medical bay had been intended to protect a patient from being flung around the cabin in an emergency. These were padded, and except for the fact that she couldn't move, she was comfortable. Of course, these had locks on them - ones she couldn't manipulate with the Force.

She looked around, finding herself behind a privacy screen in a corner of the familiar recovery room in the Dantooine Jedi enclave. Beyond the screen were more beds, but she'd been separated from them. Were they afraid she'd hurt someone, or afraid someone would see her in the state she was in? Her chest constricted in panic, breath coming in shallow gasps. A small alarm began to go off somewhere over her head, and she saw another drip was inserted in the tube in her arm. This one was empty. A little red light flashed on a heart monitor, shrilling a rapid paced beeping sound.

A different medical droid wheeled in this time, a familiar one. 5D93C, known familiarly as 3C, extended its arms to her.

"There there, dear, calm down," she said in her synthesized voice. "You're safe now."

"No," she said, "I'm not," she knew she was being irrational, but fear often was. She jerked at her restraints, trying to kick free of the bonds on her legs. She could have used the Force, flung the droid across the room and crushed it, but she couldn't. She reached for it and found a deep void in herself that made her ill. She shifted her head, checking to see if they'd drugged her or just slapped a neural collar around her neck. There was nothing there, drugs then.

"This is for your own good, dear. You've been damaged, you need to heal. You need to let us help you."

The droid reached out, trying to give her a gentle touch of reassurance.

She shifted away from the little probe the droid extended. She'd been patched up after injuries, and cared for through childhood illnesses by this droid. She wanted to break her to pieces. "Let me out!" she screamed, throat rasping painfully. She couldn't have been here long, even with kolto her throat still hurt from screaming under Sith lightning. "How long have I been here?"

"Padawan! Compose yourself!"

Vrook entered the room and looked down at her sternly. "You will not help yourself with this."

She composed herself just enough to spit at him.

He did not move to avoid it. The spittle struck his tunic and he shook his head.

"You are not helping your situation," he said sternly. "Not at all."

She closed her eyes and turned her face to the wall, "He's going to kill me."

"Nobody is going to kill you here. You're on Dantooine, far away from the war zone. If you're referring to Ullan, there's no way he will come from Nar Shaddaa to here."

"He doesn't have to come all the way here, you know?" she said to the wall, "He could probably do it from orbit. He has a hold on me, in my soul. Maybe he'll just kill his other slave and send me a holo of it like he sent you."

"That would be regrettable, but we can only affect what we have here. And what we have here is you, and what we have to know is this: are you still a Jedi?"

"I don't know," she answered, the question making her go still. "Am I?" her voice was puzzled, not sarcastic, and she hadn't meant for it to come out that way.

"At least you still have doubts. That's better than I was expecting. Do not try to resist your treatments and examinations," he said brusquely. "And we will determine the rest."

She licked dry lips, "Where's Master Hivvis?" she asked, "And may I have some water." it hurt to ask, especially to ask him. She wished he'd go away and send the droid back. She wanted to ask the stupid question, why can't I touch the Force but didn't bother. She doubted, if he'd asked if she was Jedi, that they'd permanently removed her access to it. She knew it had happened to Ulic Qel-Droma, but she didn't think she rated that high on their threat scale.

"Hivvis is briefing the Council on the disaster of Nar Shaddaa. Not only did we lose our position there, but we lost a promising Padawan as well."

Unspoken was that what they'd gotten in exchange was not nearly worth enough to make up for the loss of Truli.

She coughed, licking dry lips, and Vrook looked away a moment, “3C, please give Iocina something to drink?”

"Of course, Master Vrook, right away."

The droid whirred away and then back, producing a cup of water. "Here you are, dear."

"I'm sorry about Truli," she said, and she meant it. In the end he'd done his best for her, and she hoped to every power in the universe that Hivvis didn't know she'd had a hand in manipulating him. If he did, he didn't seem to blame her. If he did, she hoped he didn't tell the bastard standing next to her. Vrook blamed her, whether he knew she'd helped Ullan or not.

She looked at the cup, one eyebrow raised, and jiggled the cuffs around her hands. She didn't look at Vrook, she wanted him to go away even more now...

Vrook snorted. "Sorry is a useless emotion. Concern yourself with the practical. Such as what your future will be."

He turned and marched out. 3C held the cup up to her lips.

"Master Vrook means well, he's under a great deal of pressure. "

She drank down the water in three gulps, holding the last sip in her mouth to sooth her tongue. "Is it just me that has him riled up?" she asked, "I think he wishes I'd stayed on Nar Shaddaa."

"Of course he doesn't, dear. He just regrets the deaths of so many. Jedi are peacekeepers and now there is this terrible war. So many losses, simply terrible."

"Has... has it gotten that much worse in," she thought for a moment, "How long have I been gone?"

"Just two weeks, but since Revan fell, Malak has stepped up the offensive. Nobody knows where they're getting all these horrible ships, and the masters are more concerned than I've ever seen them. They're accelerating training, sending out the young and the old. Why, there's hardly anyone left here now."

"How long have I been here?" she asked, "Do you know," she stopped. 3C definitely wouldn't know if or when she would be allowed to move.

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do now," she finished, not really talking to the droid anymore. "Wait, I guess." she gave a very bitter laugh, "I don't have any say in it anyway."

She wondered if Ullan thought she was dead, did her not being able to use the Force block the bond? She didn't know enough about it. The training bond she'd had with Yuld wasn't a true bonding, it would have faded when she'd been knighted and proclaimed able to make her own way. He'd definitely never been able to speak to her through it, they could only pass feelings and sometimes vague images.

She watched as 3C changed the clear plastine pouch of liquid, and stared at the symbols. Nutritive serum, sedative, and a symbol she memorized. It was probably the neural blocker, and she wanted to be sure she recognized it later. The droid adjusted the drip and she watched the first drops fall into the tube and felt it moving through her veins. Then she didn't feel anything for awhile.

When she awoke, Hivvis was sitting at her side, his hand atop hers.

"Good morning, child," he said quietly.

"How long did I sleep?" she asked. She automatically tried to lift a hand to wipe the sleep from her eyes and remembered she couldn't move it. She raised it a few inches and it came up short.

Biting her lip made her feel weak but it was comforting, "What's going to happen now? What are they going to do to me?"

"A few hours."

He unfastened the straps on her hands, then 3C wheeled forward with a tray of food and drink.

"And that's going to depend on what you say and do over the next few days."

"Please eat slowly Padawan Denara," C 3 said as he placed the tray on her lap, "You haven't had solid food in quite some time. If you eat too quickly or too much you'll be sick."

"Thank you," she said looking down at the food. There wasn't a great deal of it, a bowl of broth with slices vegetables in it and a slice of real bread. Beside the bowl was a cup of water and another cup of tea.

Hivvis watched her eat the plain food as though it was untold luxury. It hurt him to see her fingers shaking slightly when she lifted the cup, but he was pleased that she'd thanked the droid. It was a good sign and he let out a relieved breath.

She looked up at him with so much pain and fear in her eyes. He hoped they could help her, but that was really up to her. He took the empty tray from her lap and set it aside. She stared her hands for a moment silently, then lay back and offered him her hand to slip back into her restraints.

He shook his head and unfastened the leg restraints.

"Let's take a walk."

Vrook might not approve, but that would simply go down on the voluminous list of things his fellow master did not approve of. She was a Force-blinded Padawan and Hivvis was a Jedi master. He seriously doubted that three weeks of conditioning at Ullan's hands could make her too dangerous for a short walk. If so, it would be better to find out now.

She carefully swung her legs over the edge of the bed and tested her weight on them. She felt a bit shaky but her legs weren't threatening to go out on her. She did get a head rush as she stood and Hivvis helped steady herself.

"Thanks," she said, "The sedative I guess. Where are we going?"

"The courtyard, take in some sunshine, stretch your legs, see what is still here for you."

He offered her an arm to lean on.

She took his arm, feeling completely lost. He was acting like he didn't know what she was, what she'd done. He had to know, to have seen in her mind that it was her fault what had happened to Truli. Had to have seen what Ullan had done to her, what she'd done with him. Probably the whole council knew. They could pick through her head all they wanted while she was unconcious...

Her thoughts jumped from one fear to another and she had a battle within herself to not try and bold for a place to hide. It felt like everyone was staring at her, everyone must know she'd fallen.

He patted her arm. "Relax. Relax. There is no fear, child. I'm not pressing at you. I simply want you to know a moment of peace."

"I'm... well I can't say I'm alright," she said. She stopped for a moment and just breathed. She took in a breath, counting to five, and let it out in another five count. It was the first breathing exercise the initiates were taught as a precursor to meditation exercises. Slowly she began to get hold of her emotions. She wanted to talk to someone about what had happened, bit wasn't sure that person was Hivvis. She couldn't bear the thought of saying out loud what he undoubtedly knew already.

He waited, giving her time to calm herself. She appreciated that. Vrook would have begun lecturing her, making her more uncomfortable and tense.

Instead he waited patiently until she was ready to proceed, then led her out of the medical facility. Outside, the sun was shining down, the familiar warm glow of light and life on Dantooine, where she'd spent so much of her life. Something was different, though. Something that was even more stark and evident now that she was outside.

The Force. The connection, the ebbs and flows through such a strong bastion of the light side, cut away from her. It was more traumatic than the loss of a limb, the inability to touch it or sense it on even the most basic level.

"It hurts," she whispered, "I can't feel anything," she swallowed convulsively, feeling sick. She dropped into crouch, head swimming for a moment. She ran her hands through the verdant grass, and it felt dead to her.

"I'm sorry, but we have to be careful. In our situation, would you not take protective measures?" he asked. "You've been with Ullan, you know how effective their conversion techniques are."

"Yes," she said, "And it happens so fast."

She sat on the ground and began to pull up strands of grass, twisting them around her fingers and smelling the clean sharpness of the sap that stuck to her skin.  
"I thought," she began, "that what I'd been told about the dark side was exaggerated. That it just brought out whatever you'd been hiding from everyone. I thought Yuld had just always been holding back those impulses, and it hurt to think he'd lied to me while teaching me how to live the code. I couldn't let go of him, because I needed to hear it from himself that he'd never really believed what he'd been telling me. But I was wrong."

"What did you learn?" he asked. The question weighed heavily in the air between them, as though this were the most crucial and important answer she could give, going forward.

Iocina had to think about it, shredding the stems in her hands, "That I have to take responsibility for the things that are my fault, and to lay what was done to me at the feet on the one who caused it."

She felt her face and hand go cold and wrapped her arms around herself, "It was my fault that I left here to confront Yuld. The message I read on Vrook's comm said he was seen on Vilargo, and I thought the council was hiding it from me. I didn't wait and ask before I acted. Now, I'm wondering if a council member even sent that message. Ullan... he said that Yuld told him I would come, that he knew it. So I wonder if the message was planted to manipulate me."

"That would be like him. Ullan was always a clever one. Too clever, Vrook would say. Rarely showing his hand, rarely engaging in a straight confrontation. I expect his attempt at converting you was the same way."

He turned toward her. "The concern is that my ability to rescue you is some scheme of his, and that he intended for this to happen. Did he?"

She had to look away, "He told me to kill you."

He unclipped his lightsaber and held it out to her. "If that is your mission, then strike."

"I thought I could do it. I wanted to please him, to impress him and prove I wasn't as worthless as he kept saying I was," she said. "Everything he told me made sense, or at least I thought it did. Especially at the beginning. He said I had two options, to fight and prove I could be useful or submit and become his toy. It upset me, so I fought. After he'd defeated me he told me if I came with him I could help save millions of lives. Do you know what happened to Vilargo?"

He looked at her sharply as he returned his lightsaber to his belt. "'To' Vilargo? No. We'd never even heard of it until you'd fled there..."

"There was something there," she said, an unsettled look in her eyes, "Ullan called it the Devourer and that ancient Jedi created it as a weapon to fight the Sith but it couldn't tell the difference and just ate every Force-sensitive it could find. It... makes you hungry, not just physically but in your heart. It makes you want to come to it. He wanted to destroy it, some other Sith named Plozin was trying to release it."

She rested her forehead on her hand, "He protected me, during the battle against her droids. He didn't make it obvious, but he did things to make me dodge when he sensed I wouldn't do it on my own." she shrugged one shoulder.

"He defeated Plozin, but it was too late. He cut her legs from under her and we ran, he used her as bait to keep the thing busy. We got back to the town and he grabbed that woman, Bronus, and told me to protect her till we got to his ship," she shied away from thinking about the destruction of the hostel, "We barely made it off planet before it... I don't know it came after us when we got to orbit. When I got a chance to look at the planet, well, it was just covered in darkness."

He turned suddenly. "We must take this to the Council. At once."

Hivvis wove through the corridors, overriding the security protocols until the doors to the Council chamber slid open.

He stopped, then tried to wave her back.

"But that's what he wants!" she was saying, voice rising she didn't notice his outstretched hand. She stumbled just past the door and stopped, Hivvis grasping her shoulder and turning her away. It took her long moments to realize she recognized the man in the center of the room. If she hadn't dreamed of him recently, she'd have never known.

Revan. 

Revan swaying slightly in the middle of the room, dressed identically to her in loose white robes with 3C standing beside him. He looked as though he’d collapse any moment, eyes blank and sightless as Vandar said something to him. 

 

Several council members looked up, shocked, then doors whisked shut. Seconds later Vrook was outside with them. "What is the meaning of this?"

Hivvis held up his hand. "Iocina... has very important information."

"What did you see?" Vrook demanded.

"N... nothing." she shook her head, backing up a step away from the Jedi Master, coming up short as her shoulders met Hivvis' chest.

"Don't lie to me Padawan," Vrook said. "You saw him. And you know who he is..."

He glared up at Hivvis. "And you led her right in."

"Vrook," Hivvis said. "The Devourer has been released."

Vrook stopped short, then buried his head in his hands with a groan. "What else can go wrong?"

He snapped a hand to the guards. "Take her away. Put her in a cell. Keep her sedated!"

"NO!" Hivvis shouted.

"Don't even speak for her!" Vrook shouted. "She shouldn't have even been out yet, and then you take her to see the greatest secret of the war! I'll have you off the Council for this, Hivvis!"

Iocina knew it was pointless but she tried to run, with the sedative still lingering in her system she felt like she was running in a dream. Never quite as fast as she wanted and the hallway seemed to stretch endlessly, she was almost immediately seized by the two Knights on duty. One locked her arms behind her back and dragged her back before Vrook, she kicked and started to shout. She could only manage the first syllable before the other knight slapped his hand over her mouth.

"Rev-!"

"Silence her!" Vrook shouted needlessly. The guards pulled her away to a new place, one she'd never seen before. The confinement cells.

They didn't precisely throw her in, but it wasn't gentle either. One pushed her by the shoulders through the opening. The rapid descent into the lowest level of the enclave, added to the shove made her dizziness monumentally worse and she found herself on her knees retching. There was the prick of a hypo against her shoulder and the guards moved away.

When she'd managed to control herself, swallowing over and over to keep the little food she'd had down, she discovered the glowing blue forcefield had been activated. She thought, maybe, that she was there for a few days. They’d brought a cot in and there had been more food and water, but she was so heavily drugged she could do little but lay there and stare at the ceiling. She couldn’t even think.

Slowly, on perhaps the fifth day, she recognized that some of the sedation had been cycled back. She felt eyes on her and rolled over on the thin mattress. Master Vandar stood at the edge of the field, watching her with sad eyes.

"The Devourer? You saw it?" he asked softly.

"Yes," she nodded firmly, using the sleeve of her tunic to scrub at her face. "Ullan tried to stop it, said if I helped him I could save all the people on Vilargo. But, we failed."

She wrapped her arm around her head, hiding her eyes, "I'm sorry," she said, "and I know I can never make this right. Nothing is ever going to be right again."

She wanted to shout, to ask what they'd done to Revan. He'd been her hero before he'd left to fight in the war, he was very charismatic. She wanted to laugh or scream, if he hadn't been so damned charismatic she wouldn't be in this situation.

"Ullan tried to stop it? Do you actually believe that was his intention?"

There was something in his demeanor, a sense of finality, as if a great decision had been made, one that did not sit well with him.

"I think so," she said, "I told Hivvis that Ullan tried to protect me, and it was true. At least he did on Vilargo. He could have left me to try and slow down the Devourer like he did the Sith woman, but he took me with him."

"Because he had use for you. Ullan likes deep schemes that run long, such as sending you back here. You said he wanted us to know, correct? But to what end, what end indeed?"

She shrugged, "He wants you to send people, to 'throw martyrs at it' he said." She stood and walked closer to the energy field and knelt in a meditative posture before the master.

"Everyone was right about me," she said, "Master Yuld's teachings were flawed. I fell right into Ullan's trap, and he had me doing what he wanted so fast. Had me wanting to do it. I loved it, some of it. What's wrong with me?"

"But then he sends you to us with these words. We cannot trust anything he told you or let you hear."

He reached out to the field. "Do not trouble yourself with these thoughts," he said. "All will become clear in time."

"I wish I could take everything back," she said, her hands balling into fists. Her nails cut into her palm and send a gasping flare of pleasure through her. She cried out softly and fell to the side, curling into a ball. "Force," she bit out.

Shame spread crimson over her face and she began to cry.

He lowered the field and stepped into the room, wrapped his arms around her.

"Easy," he whispered. "We will take this pain away from you."

"But its not pain anymore," she whispered, "and I don't know how to stop it."

"We will help you. Make you better," he promised. "The Jedi will protect you."

She rolled onto her back, the cold of the floor seeping through the thin robe she wore.

"What... what did you do to Revan?" she asked. She couldn't be certain that whatever they'd done to him wouldn't also be her fate.

"We cannot discuss that," he said. "You never should have seen that. The entire war could turn on the matter."

"But... I need to know if," she trailed off, "What's going to happen now?"

"Don't worry about that," he said. "You'll be taken care of."

She looked at the blood on her palms, still welling from shallow half circles. She wiped them on her trousers.

"Do you promise, Master?" she whispered, curling on her side again. She wasn't sure now. She'd been close, so close to confessing everything to Hivvis. Now she was afraid to.

"I promise," he said. "I must go now. The masters will be coming soon to give you a full debriefing. Do not be afraid."

She didn't answer, rolling away to put her back to the small Jedi. "I just want to rest."

"Rest then," he said quietly, resting a hand on her head.

She heard the field come back up.Time passed in a haze, minutes or hours.

Suddenly the field dropped once more. Hivvis stood outside, plain brown robes in his hands. "Get up," he said.

She dragged herself to her feet and looked at him, confusion plain on her face, "Did they summon me?"

"They will soon," he said "but you won't be here for it. Put this on and come with me."

She took the robe and slipped into it, "What's going on?" she asked, slippered feet nearly silent on the floor, "Has something..." She went quiet, moving a bit faster to keep up. The sedative had worn off a while ago and her steps were even and steady. "What are they planning to do to me?" she found her hands had begun to tremble again and locked them inside the sleeves of the robe.

"We can talk about it later," he insisted. "We need to get you away. Now."

It was then that she noticed that the guards at the guard station were unconscious.

Revan. Whatever they did to him they're planning to do to me. It's so bad that Hivvis would help me escape. She pulled the hood of the robe up to shadow her face.

They made their way through the halls, a Jedi master and anonymous Jedi Knight together.

They made their way out to the landing field. Suddenly the lights snapped on.

"HALT!"

"Run!" he told her.

Iocina obeyed, heading for Hivvis' ship the Lucidity and up the already lowered landing ramp. The ship was in pre-flight mode and as she hit the cockpit could see the Jedi master standing, blade drawn, between two knights and the ship.

Kriff! Is he coming or should I just.... she knew she was wasting time with indecision but it was taken out of her hands as another Knight slipped around the side of the building and crept toward the ship.

The hell you will. 

She flicked the switch to close the ramp, managing to get it up just as he leaped for it.

As the repulsorlifts engaged she could see Vrook Lamar standing before Master Hivvis, lightsaber drawn. She dropped into the pilot's seat and made for orbit. The escape was not to be uncontested. As she made for orbit, a foursome of starfighters blazed after her, demanding she return She had a good head start, but the Lucidity was not the fastest vessel and they were gaining quickly.

Two weeks ago she would have sworn they wouldn't shoot her down, but she wasn't sure now. If she was 'lucky' they'd hit the engines with ion blasts and take her back. She didn't think lucky was what she wanted to be.

There was one laser gun on this ship, able to fire offensively to damage or destroy, and one ion gun. She had a choice, another one. She shook her head and flipped down the targeting reticule, four red dots blooming to life on its translucent green surface. With the Force she might have been able to do without the device, but now she had no choice but to use it.

She turned the craft enough to get a shot at the first two who had come from her left and fired the ion-cannon.

Sparks danced across the hull, disabling thrust as the vessel was still trying to claw its way free of the grip of gravity. The ship fell over and began to plunge back toward the surface.

The other ships began dancing in evasive maneuvers and began filling the sky with sizzling ion bolts.

All she needed was enough distance and space to hit hyperspace, she continued to maneuver out of firing range, getting further and further from the planet's gravity well. She took a quick glance at the navicomputer and found a destination was already logged, one she'd never heard of. Didn't matter, she'd figure out a new direction once she got there.

The shields began to fail under the onslaught of ion bolts. The pilots were good, from an elite squadron tasked with defending the temple.  
"Cut engines and stand by to be boarded," the comm demanded.

"I don't think I'm going to do that," she said calmly as she diverted power from the forward shields to the aft, pointing the ship in the direction of the coordinates. The stars stretched out into swirling light and she went to lightspeed.

"Stand down, padaw-" The signal cut out as she jumped to lightspeed.

Iocina sat there for a long time, wrapping the edges of the overlarge cloak around her like a blanket. Just what exactly had they done to Revan? He'd been standing there next to C3, unmoving and from what little she'd seen, unblinking. There was no way in hell he'd have been standing there passively, even under sedation and a Force suppressant. That hadn't stopped her own little tantrum. She smirked slightly, remembering the look on Vrook's face when she'd spat on him.

She had two days before arriving at this new location, it didn't seem to actually be in an inhabited system. It was just way-point she could rest at and gather her thoughts. Doubtless Hivvis had known she'd need it, to get away first and find a direction second. She reached for the computer to check for any messages he'd left, surely if he hadn't intended to come with her he'd leave something? She might be wrong, it might be enough for him that she got away, but she had to know.

There was one recorded message. Hivvis appeared on the screen, his face troubled.

"Iocina, I don't have time to tell you much. You need to run far away. Away from the war, away from the Republic, away from the temple and the Jedi, and far away from the Sith."

He glanced away, then looked back at the recorder. "Nowhere is safe for you. Run and don't stop."

The message ended.

"Well that was disturbing," she muttered, getting up and moving into the corridor to explore the ship. It wasn't much larger than the Maiden, but infinitely cleaner and better appointed. There was one large cabin but no luxurious bed in the center of it. There were two comfortable looking bunks, one of which still had restraints attached to it. She carefully tucked them back under the mattress where they were usually kept in case of emergencies. She doubted the person who'd installed it had counted on restraining a Sith.

At that thought she had to sit down on the bunk and rub a hand over her face.

Jedi. Sith. She'd been told to run from both. She thought about the dream, vision, whatever and tried to decide what to do now. "I can't make a decision rashly," she told herself, "that's part of what got all of this mucked up."

She found the galley and prepared food, thinking while it cooked and then while she ate it. She poked at the injection point in her arm and went to find the medical set-up. Much like on Ullan' ship it was in a fold out container with a temporary bed and was well stocked. Here she found something that sent a chill up her spine.

There in plastine pouch were ten vials, each bearing the code symbol that had been on the bag from the recovery room. Force blockers. There was no note, but there didn't really need to be. Hivvis was giving her... an out, as it were. There was enough to last a year, a year to set herself apart and cut herself off from the Force. She'd attract less attention from wandering Jedi or Sith, and it would be easier to try to heal herself away from the influence of the dark side.

She pulled out a medical scanner and checked her blood stream. There was enough of it in her system to last six days. Unlike the sedative, the Force suppressant was meant to stay effective for longer periods of time. It would hinder any captive from using the Force, perhaps long enough for recapture. She took an injector and loaded three doses into it, slipping it into a pocket. It took a moment to take out the port in her arm, the long needle feeling strange and uncomfortable as it slid from the vein. She rested her head on the wall for a moment, and went to lie down.

When she woke the ship was still hurling through hyperspace, oblivious to the moral conflicts its sole occupant was undergoing.

Iocina dropped out of hyperspace halfway between somewhere and nowhere. There was literally nothing here, a far away sun glistened in the darkness ahead of the view-port but the scanners showed no planets nearby.

She breathed out a sigh with a little laugh, "With my luck I should have landed in the middle of a Mandalorian raiding party or something."

The comm was set up for a transmission, she just had to find the right frequency. A little searching on the holo-net got her the right information and she punched it into the computer. She waited in the silence for someone to answer.

The green light indicating a connection lit up, a smooth seductive voice speaking through it. "You have reached The Desarane, how may I help you?"

"I need to talk to Srin," she said with a smile, she was very happy she'd chosen not to turn on the hololens. She felt less ridiculous calling what she'd come to think of as a dark-side dungeon of indulgence. "Its very important that I speak to her directly."

"Pet, a lot of people want to talk to Srin. Unless you know a priority code, I'll take a message."

"That's what I thought you'd say, so I've got a message all prepared. Tell Srin that "The Needle's missing slave wants to talk to her."

There was a long pause. Then a new voice came on. "Srin speaking. Talk."

"Hi there," Iocina said, feeling and sounding a little manic, "You wouldn't happen to know if he's still on planet is he? And, if not, do you know how I can get hold of him?"

 

"I might be able to," she said cautiously. "What do you want me to tell him?"

"Tell him I've learned that sometimes, a needle is better than a hammer," she said it quietly, waiting. Srin had been there, if her dream had been a real vision.

There was a long pause. "Is that all?"

"I can't say it over this channel, I don't know who could be listening," she said, "If he's on his ship it would be more secure, but I'm going to automatically assume someone is listening to this or at least recording it."

"Safe assumption," she said. "If he wanders by, I'll pass that on."

"Thanks," she said, "I'll be in the same place for a couple of days, if he doesn't answer me back by then," she rubbed the bridge of her nose, "Then I guess he won't."

She didn't have another plan yet, but she'd have to think of one soon. Her only option was what Hivvis had told her to do: Run. Run far.

Time passed. One full day elapsed, then part of the next.

Finally the comm crackled to life. "Talk to me, worm."

 

"I'm doing well, how are you? Good to hear it. I thought you'd like to know that Revan isn't dead," she forced herself to sound as cheerful as she had when speaking to Srin but held her breath after she'd gotten it out. She felt sick, knowing she was being disrespectful and hating that she worried about it. 

A pause. "Explain yourself."

She gave him her own pause, "I've just spent the last few days sedated and in restraints. There's also the Force suppressing drugs as well, but that goes without saying right? Aside from that after telling Master Hivvis about the Devourer he decided we needed to see the Council immediately. What an awful surprise he and I had when I saw something I wasn't supposed to. Revan, looking much worse than I feel, standing in the middle of the Council chamber."

It came out in a rush of breath and words, leaving her unable to continue for a moment.

"What is your current status?"

"In what way do you mean?" she asked, caution sliding into her voice. "If you mean where I am, the answer is the middle of nowhere in an empty star system. If you mean am I alone, the answer is yes. If you mean something else I'd like you to ask it outright. I don't want to embarrass myself or anything."

"I'm sending coordinates for a rendezvous. Meet me there and we'll go over the situation in more detail. Coming alone is highly advisable."

She was silent for a moment, "Promise you won't shoot me down."

"A few days with the Jedi and you regress to idiocy. If I want to kill you, in what universe do you think I would make it quick and merciful?"

"Got it," she sighed, "Where?"

She was making a huge mistake. She knew it, he was counting on it. Am I suicidal? she asked herself, and had to answer, Maybe. But if I'm going to die I want it to be for a reason even if that reason was just to point a powerful and terrifying Sith Lord in the direction of the ones holding Darth Revan captive. 

A series of coordinates fed through her comm.

"I would recommend you be very, very precise with those," he said. "Needle out."

She got up and began to get ready, she had a satchel with an extra set of robes and other personal hygiene items, all the vials of Force suppressant, a tool case full of components and half a working lightsaber she'd started tinkering with on the way out here, and some ration packs she had rightfully liberated from a Jedi vessel. She didn't think she'd get to keep them, but it was best to be prepared just in case he surprised her.

She sat down and calibrated the navicomputer to as high a standard as she could get it before putting in the coordinates. "I'm so kriffing stupid." she punched it, and sat back to watch the swirling tunnel stretch out to infinity. She pulled out the injector and pressed it against her wrist. If it gave her a week with a mind unclouded by the dark-side it would be worth it, wouldn't it? She flicked it on and felt the tiny stinger pierce her skin and a cool sensation spread up her arm. She put the thing back in her pocket and waited.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iocina returns to the fold, not quite cowed enough for Ullan's preferences...

When the jump terminated, it was in the midst of swirling chaos. Asteroids tumbled around her in a seemingly random dance. However, a moment's observation revealed there was one safe passage through, and the directions of the asteroids were carefully controlled by a massive tractor beam array projecting from an otherwise darkened station. A white dwarf sat sullenly in the distance, the heart of a long-dead system.

A floating repair droid drifted toward the ship, waving a pair of signaling wands that indicated she should follow it.

"At least its better than a Mandalorian raiding party," she told herself, following the droid's indicated path.

The asteroids, ranging in size from aircar to towering chunks that would dwarf a frigate, swirled in a carefully designed dance around her, the path so narrow that the ship could barely fit. The droid lead her on a serpentine path through the rocks until she arrived at a cavernous hangar bay. The massive station could have easily accommodated a small fleet, but seemed to be entirely unused other than maintaining the intricate web of asteroids that danced around it.

The bay was darkened, only dimly lit by the partially occluded light of the star outside. The droid landed, and silence reigned as her ship touched down.

She waited, calmly, for any movement. Then checked to see if the stations gravity and life support systems were even functional. She couldn't see from here if Ullan's ship was docked, and obviously couldn't sense him.

The darkened bay sat under the flickering shadows of the asteroids as she waited.

She rolled her eyes and picked up the satchel, then keyed open the ramp walked down into the bay, shifting shadows of light and dark playing over her face. She told herself that she didn't believe in omens.

As soon as she cleared the ship, she was snatched up into the air, spinning crazily as she went. She came to a stop, hanging by her ankles over the vast abyss below. He sat on a catwalk, legs dangling over the side.

"Hello worm, did you have a nice visit home?"

"It was lovely," she gasped.

"You're being rather sarcastic lately," he said. "So tell me about Revan."

"Whatever they did to him, its bad. He looked... sedated isn't the right word. I was sedated, he was just blank. Like there was no one home in his eyes." she answered, "After I saw him I tried to call out to him and got locked in a holding cell with yet more sedatives in me for a few days. Vandar came down, being very kind, saying the Council just wanted to help me and that the rest of them were going to come debrief me. Then a few hours later Hivvis let me out. He shoved me into a Knight's robe and told me I didn't want to be there when they came for me. We got caught and he told me to run, had his ship ready for me to take and everything." she tried to shrug but it didn't have the right effect being upside down, "Whatever they did to Revan, they were going to do to me. It was so bad that a Council Master helped me escape it."

She swallowed, keeping her eyes on him instead of looking down, "And now here we are."

"And Hivvis declined to come with you? A nice, blatant trap, it would seem. Assuming that was even Revan you saw, and not someone altered to look like him. Or a clawdite, for that matter. Idiot."

He dumped her roughly on the catwalk. "We'll discuss this in greater detail before the fleet arrives."

He threw out a hand and a turbolaser hidden in the bay began savaging Hyvvis' ship with emerald fire, reducing it to slag after a short volley. Alarms began blaring throughout the station.

"Shame to burn such a lovely facility after one visit, but that's what it was here for. Well, originally they built it for something else, but that's what I decided to use it for. Now, follow me."

She did, two steps behind him. "If I hadn't seen Revan in a vision a few days ago, I'd never have known it was him. I'd never seen him up close before in my life, so them making me walk in on that is a bit less likely," she said, hitching her bag to rest further back on one hip in case she needed to move quickly, "If you're still wondering why I'm so chatty its because I figure I'm going to die anyway, so I might as well get a few words in."

"Did you do something worth killing you over?" he asked. He leapt from the catwalk suddenly, dropping forty feet down to the next level. He looked up and sighed, then reached out to levitate her downward. "Just remember if I don't decide to kill you, I can spend a good deal of time making you wish you were dead."

"That was the second fate I'd figured on," she said, sounding just as confident as when she'd spoken about dying.

"I'll correct your apparent attitude issues once I get out of here, one way or the other."

He stopped and slapped a control. A door irised open, revealing a small pod that could comfortably fit one and tightly fit two, with a simple set of controls that were operated from the prone position, face, staring out the window at the end. Even as they looked, several other pods of similar design launched, streaking into the whirling chaos of the asteroid field. He climbed in, then slapped the area at his side.

"Get in."

She dropped in, keeping her bag on her lap. It fit, barely.

"I figured that too," she said, nodding, then added, "But, at least you're honest about it," her jovial tone slipped at the word 'honest', coming out bitter.

"Have I lied to you yet?" he asked. "I only lie to people that I can't influence by simply beating them up."

He hit the release and the pod launched, now part of a cloud of hundreds of them. They caromed randomly through the asteroid built, dozens meeting spectacularly explosive ends.

"By the way, if the plan was for some of your Jedi friends to jump in at an opportune time, the path is totally closed. Any ship that attempts to follow those coordinates will die, explosively."

He killed the nav displays and closed his eyes, seizing the Force and using it to wind their way through the now-chaotic asteroid field. At one point the nose of the pod pointed back at the station, which was shuddering under a series of impacts.

She sighed, "The message Hivvis left on the ship was for me to get the hell out. Get out of the war, away from the Republic, especially to stay away from Jedi, and of course the Sith. He was a little more emphatic on the last one though. If I was being tracked, I don't think he knew it."

"Because a Jedi master wouldn't lie to a suspect padawan in order to capture a Sith Lord? Never. And one of the higher priority targets, if I'm not flattering myself overmuch."

They skimmed the surface of an asteroid, low enough to almost reach out and touch the pitted rock, then they were in open space and accelerating.  
"They can be devious, for all their self-righteous humbug. Never trust them."

Suddenly the courier came into view, the dark paint job nearly invisible against the starry sky. He carefully maneuvered to mate with the docking collar, then hit the release.

He started to back out, but she was in the way. "Move yourself so I can get out of this can and we can get one with things."

She climbed out as gracefully as she could manage, which is to say with a lot of wriggling. She stepped aside to give him room.

He shoved himself out, slammed the control for the docking clamp. Once the ship cut off, the pod's air supply puffed out into space, pushing it away. He proceeded toward the controls and threw himself into the chair, firing up the engines and locking in a predetermined course.

Moments later, the ship jumped to lightspeed.

She didn't even think about sitting, or moving at all really. She took her belongings off her shoulder and set them down against the wall out of the way, taking the injector out of her pocket and sliding it in the bag before standing again to wait.

This is the stupidest thing I've ever done. I hope it's not the last thing I do, although if I survive I'll probably be doing a lot more stupid things.

"Give me the bag," he said. He rotated the chair and pointed at his feet.

She lifted it and carried it to him, dropping it on the deck in front of him. She put her hands behind her back, twisting and untwisting her fingers nervously.

He slammed her against the wall with the Force, pinning her in place while he examined the bag.

"Your lack of respect is unbecoming, worm."

She bit back another sarcastic reply, truthfully she'd expected to be dead already.

"If you want to die, I can take what I need from your mind, then carry on with your painful end. Otherwise, you will remember your place."

He pressed his metallic hand against her breast and looked into her eyes.

She sucked in a breath through her nose, dark eyes caught with his. She started to squirm and thought better of it, only twitching slightly.

Tickles of electricity began arcing from his hand into her body. The pain was mild, tolerable, but only the first taste of what she well knew he was capable of. "Do you want to die?" he asked, in a time that suggested he was asking after the weather.

"No," she gasped, "If I'd wanted to die, I'd have let Vrook destroy my mind."

He shot a painfully strong current through her, allowed her to settle for a second, then hit her with another, more powerful one.

In the midst of the second blast, he entered her mind. This was no subtle, peaceful probe. He made sure she felt the violation, saw every memory he accessed.

She made a sound, she could feel it come from chest up through her mouth but all she heard was roaring in her ears. She felt like she was falling from a great height, like the worst vertigo she'd ever experienced, but it felt like it would never stop.

I am your master. You seem to have forgotten this.

With her lack of protection, he could casually rifle through her mind. He started with the most recent memories.

Ah. So this is why you expected to die. You knew I would see your weakness, your lack of faith.

Electricity coursed through her as he continued.

I knew all this before you left. I knew you were weak and inconsistent, that your loyalty and devotion were fragile and easily changed.

He continued walking through her mind, lingering at the memories of Vrook, sometimes replaying them two or three times.

He doesn't look very well. Miserable failure after miserable failure. There is a lot more suffering to come.

Having finished with her time on Dantooine, he began digging in to older memories, observing her life and training. He lingered at the painful memories, the embarrassing and fearful, adding malicious commentary to her greatest shames.

Look at this, Truli was right. And then he died for you anyway. What a proper Jedi he was.

I know I'm weak, and the teachings are flawed. Not just Yuld's but whole Order's. In my dream you said that 'Ignorance is weakness and only cowards fear knowledge.' I am ignorant, and I'm tired of being a coward.

And your answer to this is to come back with a flippant attitude? Do you just want to die now?

He reviewed her memories of the vision of his past.

I don't remember it quite that way, but we edit our memories as we go along. And if the Force said it, it must be true.

The final line was delivered with bitter sarcasm.

A thought crossed her mind, easily readable, she was nearly suicidal. Everything she knew, about the universe and herself, had been challenged and it and she had been found wanting. She had no firm ground to stand on, like a wave dragging sand from beneath her feet. She had nothing left to believe in.

NEVER.

His rage flowed into her mind. Never die cheap. Never give your life away. Die with your enemies regretting they ever met you!

He ripped out of her mind, dropping her to the floor. "You bought your life once by fighting to the best of your pathetic abilities. Are you going to give it away now. Do you just want to be my little slave, with no thoughts but to satisfy my will? Did that idiot padawan die for a slave?"

"When have I not been a slave?" she asked, "A slave to the Jedi, a slave to my own ignorance and fear, a slave to you." she looked up at him from her prone position, "It seems to be my natural state."

She took a deep breath, "You said you would love to break me." she said flatly, "If that's what it takes to become what I need to be, to discover what I can be, to become more than just a slave then so be it. I just keep trying to justify everything, convincing myself that I'll always have an out for my decisions. That I can worm my way out of your control, to sit on the fence of indecision between the light and the dark forever. I don't know how to break myself of such weakness."

He threw his lightsaber to the floor at her feet. "Then this is your last decision until I see fit to give you another one. If you want to die, have the courage to do it yourself."

She picked it up, running her fingers over its surface. She held it up with both hands over her head as if it were an offering.

"I'm not going to die."

He took it back. "Then take your place, slave. I'll make something useful out of you."

"Yes Master Ullan." She dropped into the full submission, and one more time thought, What have I done? 

He walked over and flopped down on a chair.

"So to review from your busy week. Revan, possibly alive, unless it is some kind ploy to throw dissent into the ranks. Which is why we won't be speaking of this to anyone. If he's there, I'll find him and get him out."

He beckoned her over with a single finger.

She crawled forward, head down staring at the deck plates. She stopped when her eyes met his boots.

"Hivvis is not dead, because you're a mewling indecisive failure. Lesson, slave: the universe does not cooperate and you can only truly count on what you do with your own hands. On the plus side, you were Hivvis' breaking point, he's off the Council and now probably out of the Order. That won't stop him from making a nuisance of himself, but he was a voice of reason on the Council. With him gone, they'll become more rigid and reactionary."

He slipped a boot forward, nudged her mouth with it. "Unexpected benefit: with the chaos you caused, any fool who gets captured by the Sith becomes suspect, even if we only have them for a week. They'll think all their padawans and perhaps even knights are craven cowardly failures like yourself."

She pressed her lips to the tip of his shoe and sat back slightly so she could see his face through a fringe of hair.

She had to admit he was right, "Hivvis did say that I couldn't be trusted and everything I said was suspect. They couldn't believe anything I said or overheard," she said quietly.

"Yes yes, I saw it through all the philosophical maundering you were doing when you managed to fail both the Jedi and myself."

He put his foot on her chest and pushed her back over. "I have a great many things to think about, the sort of things I would discuss with an apprentice, but not a slave. Take off the robes and eject them into space, I don't want any of that Jedi filth on my ship."

"Yes Master," she said, standing slowly and making her way to the airlock. She was surprised at how steady her hands were as she slid out the wrapped over tunic and shirt and pulled down the loose trousers. She wrapped it all in the voluminous robe and placed it in the airlock. She pushed the buttons to open the outside gate and watched as the bundle was sucked into space.

Uncertain what to do now she moved back into the hallway, just outside the door to the cargo hold and knelt in a meditative posture.

She felt a mental tug summoning her after she knelt down.

"When you finish a task, you return and wait for the next one," he informed her.

She returned, thought of just kneeling, and resumed the submissive position she'd taken before.

He stroked the vials of Force suppressant sitting on the arm of the chair. "You were right to cut yourself off from the Force, slave. You aren't worthy to command it. I will not give it back to you unless I decide you have made yourself worthy. Until then, you are simply human. Weak, fragile, and easily broken."

"Yes Master," she replied. She'd expected that when she brought it with her, but with such an extensive supply she was wondering if he'd find any other uses for it.

She kept silent, all desire to make him angry through sarcasm had drained away.

"Important words," he said. "Jedi allow the Force to flow through them. Jedi waste years of their lives meditating on what the Force desires from them. Sith do not. Sith command the Force. Sith use the Force. We bend it to our will, as we do everything else."

He reached down and tugged on her breast band. "Tell me slave, do you still want me to take you? Do you still want me to use your body?"

She shuddered, just his hand on her and it felt as though she'd never tried to fight this. 

"Yes," she said, "Master.

"You're still not worthy," he said. "But I will show you something."

He gestured and she was lifted into the air.

"Bodies are instruments to be played," he said as he rose to his feet, circling around her. Feather light touches began teasing along her skin.

Her breath came out in soft pants, pressing her legs together without thinking. She dropped her head back in bliss, enjoying it while she could in case he moved to something less pleasant.

The breast band tugged itself free, forcing her arms up before sliding back down to wind over her eyes and around her throat. It didn't constrict down to cut off her air, merely lurked with the threat, pulsing slightly.

The touches continued, pulsing lightly on sensitive nerve clusters. Soft waves of the Force undulated across her body, kneading and stroking at her.

Her breaths became soft moans, back arching against the air. He would able to sense that she was slightly on edge, waiting for all this to turn to pain. She tried to shield herself, reaching out for the Force and meeting bleak nothingness. She relaxed her legs, parting them slightly.

A flick of the Force threw her legs apart, elevating them as though to receive a lover.

And then the Force pushed into her, a gentle, undulating wave that penetrated into her innermost, expertly weaving itself in.

Her ragged moan was loud in the quiet room and she rolled her hips as if she could draw it deeper in. 

The band began to tighten around her throat as the Force within filled her. A separate tendril snaked to tease at her clitoris.

She felt him ghost into her mind.

Swear your allegiance to me. Loudly.

"I swear," she bit out, voice high with the band pressing against her airway, and had to start again after crying out in pleasure, "I swear my allegience to you. I, I'll serve you my Lord in whatever way you command."

She could feel it rising in her, just on the cusp of falling over the edge.

He pressed something in her mind, inhibiting her orgasm.

Say that you're glad Truli died, slave. Say that Hivvis is a fool and you used him.

Her whole body tensed and went still, a cold sweat broke out across her skin stealing some of the heat rising in her.

"I'm glad Truli died," she said, voice nearly even, "I hated him, his dying apology was too little, too late."

Her breath came out in a hiss, "Hivvis should never have trusted me. He released me much too soon, if he hadn't the council might have had a chance to change me. He was a fool."

Could have used a bit more sinister enthusiasm, but it will serve. Now beg me to let you finish, slave whore.

"Please," she moaned, writhing against the air, "My Lord, let me come. I'll do anything, please. Master!" She cried out the last word with desparate need.

All at once the Force released her, dropping her unceremoniously on the floor.

"Maybe later," he said lightly. "Vrook, I would like to thank you for inviting my agent directly into the temple. I've learned a great many interesting things, but don't worry, your secrets are safe with me."

He sat down once more, using the Force to move Iocina to his side in her subservient position. "Sleep lightly, master Vrook. I'll be killing you later."

He waved a hand and killed the recorder.

She lay there, panting, sweat running down her body as she twitched with need and reaction to his words. She'd known he would contact them eventually, but not like this or so soon.

He reached down and traced a finger over the sweat on her back, drawing little patterns.

"Filthy little creature. Just like I like it. The next time they see you, they'll try to kill you. If only you could defend yourself. "

She raised her head enough to look at him, and nodded her understanding. His hand on her cold skin felt wonderful, but her arousal had partially abated. She dropped an impulsive kiss on his boot, half slipping to one side.

He unfastened his trousers. "I'm not going to take you," he said "but I do need a receptacle."

He stepped into her mind once more, locking out control of her muscles. He lifted her limp body into the air, prying her mouth open with the Force.

All she could do was blink as all her joints went loose, she could feel him in her mind. It wasn't the same as it would be if she'd not been blocked from the Force, having someone touch her mind had always caused instinctive defenses to mobilize. Now she could do nothing, this was how the Force-blind experienced mental intrusions, entirely helpless to fight back.

Her jaws prised open and she didn't try to fight it, it wouldn't do any good and would likely save her a deal of pain to submit.

He lifted her by the ankles until she hovered upside down above him. He left most of her body limp, arms dangling to either side of him. He seemed to be doing something in her mind at a deep level, implanting impulses below the level of her consciousness.

She felt a pulse of satisfaction with his work as he lowered her down, her mouth descending over his erection. Once there, the implanted impulses took over, unleashed as the techniques he'd derived from Bronus began to drive her.

He relaxed, hands clasped behind his head, the Force grip on her ankles gently bobbing her up and down.

His mind moved in hers, more intimate than when he'd been clawing his way through her memories and much more insidious. She felt something slither through her thoughts, changing and molding them until she had a deep understanding of what he wanted her to do. What she desired to do. The muscles of her throat were already relaxed, although now she would know how to do it consciously for the next time he wanted to use her this way. She rolled her tongue along his shaft, flicking across the head of it in a delicate sweep as nearly pulled out of her mouth. She sucked and licked, little moans and sighs moving her throat around him pleasantly.

Like the sensation of being touched within by the Force, this brought as much arousal with it. Every stroke into her throat tugged an invisible string attached to her clit, and it was frustrating not being able to move her hips. She wanted to touch herself as much as she wanted to taste him, to take him as deep in her throat as he could go. Need swept through her body until she felt she'd go mad, unable to reach her climax. Wetness pooling between her legs until she thought it would spill over and run down her body.

He kept her bobbing in the air, his needs deep and powerful. He lifted a hand, and suddenly a savage whipcrack slashed across her bottom, the sound of the impact ringing across the room. Her body was held still, her compulsion keeping her hard at work.

With the blow wetness did begin to roll down her front, trailing a hot line down her stomach. She groaned around him, the pain bringing her to the very edge. She began to moan and whimper in earnest as she fully realized what he'd done. She was trapped, stuck between agony and release.

She sucked desperately, with tongue and lips and throat working together, teeth grazing ever so slightly.

"Watch the teeth," he warned.

The next blow struck her left inner thigh. He smiled at her, his eyes shining with joy in her suffering.

Her throat closed convulsively as he was at the deepest point, a soft scream released as he slid out of it. The pain/pleasure matrix he'd already instilled in her had her locked even tighter in desperation, something clenching inside her. She noticed suddenly that her palms, with their little half-moon cuts stung as they had when she'd first dug her nails into them.

Unbidden the memory of Vandar wrapping his arms around her shoulders rose in her and she realized his comforting words had been a hint of what the Council had decided. They'd already been planning to destroy everything that made her who she was.

The sudden anger made the arousal and fresh mental conditioning flare into an erotic hunger that left her mind empty for a long drawn out moment. White hot rage, need, and fear of what she'd escaped were twisted into more pleasure than she thought she could survive without breaking apart.

Blow after blow rained down on her, until he was ready, his hungry eyes gazing through her, his mind in hers. He rotated her slowly, putting her in position on her knees, pulling himself free, aiming and unleashing his seed upon her waiting face.

Only when he had finished did he finally release her, bruises forming on her body along her back, her legs, her breasts.  
"Filthy creature," he said, his voice husky.

She knelt, face turned up and chest heaving. The thick gel on her face began to cool as air moved across it. Black and purple marks were blossoming across her light brown skin.

Between her legs she could feel moisture dripping to the floor. She wanted to grind herself against it, but was realizing how futile it would be.

"You're barely functional as a pleasure device," he mused. "But you'll have to do until I pick up Bronus. Go clean yourself off and bring me a meal."

"Thank you Master," she said, rising to her feet slowly. She knew it could be a while until the full effect of the beating settled into her body as endorphins faded.

She slipped into the sonic shower, the heating element soaking warmth into her skin as she cleaned herself. She pressed her cleaned face against the wall and finally managed to catch her breath. Had she made the right decision? She thought so, and there was no going back for her now. She'd known that a day after her escape from Dantooine. She hadn't had too many options. She couldn't go back and allow the Jedi Council to do to her what they'd done to Revan. It had taken her hours of meditation to come up with a hypothesis. They'd erased him, broken his mind and and taken everything he'd ever been away. It was worse than murder, so much worse than anything Ullan had done to her mind today.

She couldn't stay with the Lucidity, even if it hadn't had a tracking device - which it almost definitely did - she didn't know where to go once she'd gotten rid of it. No matter where she sold it there would be a trail the Jedi could pick up on their search for her. There was no way they would have just let her go. Vrook had probably decided immediately that she'd had some deep game going, Ullan's brillant deviousness had been embodied in her somehow.

Running, far away, as Hivvis had asked of her? Well, that was out of the question too. She couldn't stay on Force suppressors for the rest of her life, or she could but it wouldn't be living. It was bad enough with knowing one day she'd hopefully be permitted access to the Force, but cutting herself off forever was nightmarish.

In the end it all came down to Revan. Not to avenge what had been done to him, that was a weak motivation for willingly going back to a Sith Lord and throwing herself on his dubious mercies; but to try and finish what he'd started. She didn't know what Revan had wanted to make of the galaxy, but she was pretty sure Ullan did. And Malak was going to balls the whole thing up.

She went into the galley and prepared a meal, then brought the dish to Ullan and presented it on her knees as she'd learned.

He ate with the usual gusto, his body a raging furnace that demanded fuel. He sent her back for more twice.

Finally, with the third serving he began hand-feeding her the odd morsel, the action distracted and negligent. Finally he set the scraps down on the floor for her to eat. "No hands," he informed her.

She silently assented, placing her hands on the floor bending her head over them. She'd asked to be broken, and this was part of that. She had to let go of who and what she'd been, a blank slate to be written on. Not like Revan's emptiness, but something receptive to change.

She ate carefully, picking up larger pieces with her teeth and then lapped the floor clean.

He reclined back once more. "When you own slaves, you must continually remind them of their place. Cruelty, fear, and subjugation must be continually ground into their existence. Any kindness must be repaid with at least three cruelties, so they never forget their place."

He glanced at the ship's chrono. "Seven hours to landfall. Time for a little sleep and then back to the work your foolishness interrupted."

In the bunk, he'd made an addition while she had been on Dantooine. Crudely welded to the floor was a short chain and a pair of shackles. He sat down on the bed and had her remove his clothing, then manacled her hands behind her back.

"See you in a few hours," he said flippantly as he lay down in the bunk. He made a few satisfied noises, then quickly drifted off to sleep.

He knew I'd be back, she thought, And he knew what my return would be like. She wondered if he'd ever intended for her to kill Master Hivvis, or if that would have just been a bonus. Deep games, Vandar had said. She'd played completely into his hands.

She settled herself as much as she was able, adjusting her wrists to the most bearable position with her legs crossed. She'd never realized how much she'd relied on the Force to ease her discomfort and decided that it was rather pathetic.

Without being able to fully meditate she settled for a breathing exercise, eventually dropping into a light doze an hour or so after Ullan.

 

Her shackles released suddenly, announcing the arrival of morning. He sat on the edge of the bed, stretched his arms.

"Time to clean me, slave."

He walked directly through her space, forcing her to dodge aside. In the refresher chamber there was a new surprise- am actual shower, with room enough for both of them.

She looked down at her nude body to see that she was covered neck to knee in bruises. Her body ached from being on the floor, the thin black carpet doing nothing to cushion her. Sleeping in a sitting position hadn't helped anything either.

She slipped into the 'fresher and stared at the shower as water began to pour down. As steam curled around the room she stepped under the water and reached for the bottle of soap. It had a dark and rich scent, reminiscent of incense as she began to wash his chest.

"Envoys like to travel in style," he said approvingly. He spread his arms and let her work. "Head to toe, thorough."

He made no effort to do anything for himself.

"We're meeting with pirates today. I may pass you around, be ready to entertain."

She answered properly and knelt to wash his hips and thighs, then began to wash his member with care. She lifted one foot and then the other to wash the soles. She stayed there, kneeling deferentially when she'd finished. She enjoyed the feeling of hot water running down her skin, a sonic shower got one perfectly clean but there was always the feeling that something had been missed.

"If I sit down and nudge you here" a small touch of the Force pushed against the base of her spine "you will get on all fours to be my footstool."

She silently assumed the required position, keeping her back as straight as possible.

He lifted one foot up and rested it on the small of her back, leaned on his knee.

"Hmm. Yes. We'll do this as well."

He lowered his leg and shoved her out of the way, stepped out of the shower, then extended his arms expectantly.

She stood, using the graceful movement she'd learned from Bronus. There was a rack against the wall, thick black towels and other toiletries arranged in it. She lifted a towel shook it out, returning and beginning to dry him with it. She folded the towel over her arm and waited, watching him in her peripheral vision.

"Clothes and food," he ordered. "Move quickly! We're arriving soon!"

She sped her steps as she took up his clothing and helped him dress, returning to the galley and preparing more food. This time she made quite a bit more than she had the night before. She kept her mind carefully blank, trying to remain calm and receptive. Now he could see every thought, although she doubted he would constantly be in her mind. That would be a waste of his time, and divide his attention.

She returned with the food and once more repeated the offering gesture. Will he make me remain naked? she thought uncertainly. The thought made her uncomfortable, but if that was his decision she had to obey it. She's never be able to back out of this again, but this time she wanted that less than before. Even if all she did for a while was act like a slave, she had more hope that she'd be able to become 'useful' as he'd said.

He ate quickly, then gestured toward one of Bronus' special costumes. "That one."

After she dressed, he bid her to kneel before him. He slipped a collar around her neck, the metal flowing like liquid around her neck, adjusting itself.It never quite came to rest, continually flowing and squirming, reacting to her body heat and movements. To it he hooked a chain of golden links, the metal bonding with the leash. He curled the chain about his fist and led her back to the cockpit.

The collar was odd, slithering over her skin and never quite warming to body temperature. She'd never heard of anything like it, was it some bizarre piece of technology or an artifact like Ullan's arm?

The costume was as tight in the torso as the one she'd worn previously, a diamond shaped cutout revealing nearly all of her breasts. It came down in the front and back into points, barely covering her bottom and between her legs. There was no matching underwear this time. Thin wires pressed against her skin throughout the material, ending in small spirals over her nipples. It wasn't uncomfortable as the others had been and she had to think about what it was meant to do. She realized as she followed behind him that it was likely a very conducive material, any touch of electricity would heat the wires and let lightning travel more efficiently around her.

He sat in the seat as the countdown clock ticked away the final minutes.

Then the craft reverted to realspace in the midst of a sizable hodgepodge armada. Dozens of ships flitted about, battered and ugly constructs, modified and painted in individualized schemes, with a unifying theme of 'nasty and intimidating'.

He flipped on the comm.

"Attention pirate armada. This is Darth Ullan of the Sith Liberation Forces. I would like to join your conference, if you would be so kind."

A gravelly voice answered. "I'll blast you from the sky, Sith scum. Lightsaber is no good in a ship fight."

"Very true, Admiral Kleet. However, if I don't send out a clear signal soon, a pair of destroyers will reduce your orbital at Nashath 3 to rubble. And your asteroid hideout in the Viper Belt, Captain Friope. Gresto, your nestlings will make great sport for my commando team. Wrryb, my assassins will not be quick with your wife and children. A shame, when your son is so close to being accepted by the academy... "

"What do you want, Ullan?"

"Darth Ullan. As I said, a seat at the table. Also an apology for that nasty little threat. "

He listened to the silence for a moment. "Well? I'm waiting. We're not known for our patience."

Finally an answer came through. "Most humble apologies, Darth Ullan. Please, join us."

She looked out over the rag-tag collection of ships. They were all heavily armed and armored, but it was obvious not all of them were in good repair. In fact it seemed that the more weapons a ship sported the less well cared for it looked.

Of course, that could have been an illusion. It could give an enemy the hope of escape or or defeating the pirates in question.

He snorted as he turned off the comm and put the ship on course for the largest vessel. "I don't have destroyers in position, or assassins or commandos. Simply knowing their vulnerable points means I don't need them. Knowledge is power."

He looked over the ragtag fleet. "So much potential," he said admiringly.

A faint smile touched her lips. It didn't surprise her now, after what she'd been told by Hivvis and Vandar, that his threats weren't based in fact. Fear was his ally, and he generally didn't need firepower to back that up.

"Pirates are a form of Sith society. The strong ruling the weak, a disruptive force to rigid cultures. Never a straight fight when possible. An excellent destabilizing force," he said. "Also, I enjoy their aesthetics."

The hangar bay was decorated with scrap from captured ships and skeletons from more than a dozen species.

"Also the capability for necessary brutality either as a means to an end, or simply for the sheer enjoyment of it," he said with a happy sigh as they landed.

She wondered if he'd always felt that way, or if over time she too would find herself feeling that way as well.

He leapt to his feet, crackling with energy and excitement. "Your act here is terrified little creature. Fearful looks, theatrical shivering, make just eye contact to entice them, then show enough fear to be prey."

"Yes my Lord," she replied, feeling a twinge of apprehension mixed with excitement herself. He'd said he might 'pass me around', what exactly had he meant by that? she thought. She doubted he would let them take her, at least not that way. He was possessive, and would probably want that for himself. I hope.

He seized the chain once more and took off at a brisk pace that threatened to drag her in his wake if she didn't keep up.

However as they approached the exit stairs he composed himself, the process a visible transformation as he went from am excited hedonistic sadist to a cold, composed Sith Lord.

He strode down the stairs, the picture of arrogant control. A motley group of pirates awaited him, heavily armed, scarred, and wary. He gave a chilling laugh.

"None of your leaders had the courage to meet me?"

He looked for a viscomm recorder and addressed it directly. "If the Sith wanted you vermin dead, it would be done. I know your lairs, your patterns, and your vulnerabilities, insects. Wiping your little bands from the galaxy may have been beyond the Republic, but it would be trivial for us. Now," he whirled on the pirate guards "take me to your leaders, disposable minions."

As his demeanor had changed so had hers. She held herself in a posture of submissive terror, following down the ramp close at his heels. She kept her head down, but made it obvious she was looking through her hair and glancing around fearfully.

She cringed slightly at his laugh, as though she'd learned the hard way to be even more afraid of his amusement than his anger. As she followed him and his 'entourage' she walked with short quick steps, a sort of jogging shuffle.

Without the bond she couldn't be certain what he felt, unless he spoke directly into her mind she had to decide on a persona herself. She didn't want to mimic Bronus here, it wouldn't impress these men in the same way it would those who were use to perfectly trained pleasure slaves. She instead behaved as though he'd recently broken her utterly and trained her himself to obey him through fear.

Curses and shouts echoed through the halls. Techs tried to repair damaged and worn components. Slaves were ushered along for menial tasks. A brawl broke out as they passed, a pair of crewmen venting idle anger on each other as their compatriots cheered and made wagers. Ullan stopped to observe for a moment, tugging her more closely with the leash.

Vary your distance, let me yank you around.

Her steps slowed as though she were startled by the fight, eyes wide as she watched violence break out. His vicious jerk on the chain made her cry out, purposely losing her balance and nearly going sprawling. She caught herself. actually gripping the end of the chain attached to the collar for moment. She pretended to realize she was forbidden to touch the metal jerked her hand away.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispered, gasping out each apology as she quickened her steps and nearly stepped on his heels.

Her pathetic struggles raised chuckles around her.

Everyone is vulnerable to both the familiar and to seeing what they expect you to see. Estimate for me hood long it would take for you to kill every being in this hallway if you had a lightsaber in hand and the will to actually use it.

He yanked again, picking up his pace.

She had to focus to bring words to the surface of her mind, unable to project as she usually would. Many of them aren't well armed, and some have no weapons at all. The ones who pilot snub fighters are the most guilty of this, being out of practice with fighting on the ground and never joining the boarding parties. I'd ignore them at the beginning, taking out the ones armed with blasters first. Then move to the pirates with vibro-swords and daggers.

She glanced around, a mask of terror on her face as she seemed to be keeping an eye on the laughing men. There are several pieces of machinery running, and if I got crowded I could throw a few of them into it them. Particularly the large turbine to the left, I wouldn't even have to throw someone into it very hard - it would suck in anyone who got too close to it. That would also make a good distraction and intimidation technique if I did it before I started my attack. Even hardened fighters might think twice about approaching someone who'd just shredded one of their men, covering them with blood and bits of their friend.

She thought about it, imagining the battle in her mind and trying to picture it for him. Depending on whether I could break some of their will through fear I'd estimate four minutes or so. Eight if I had no lightsaber and had to take a sword or blaster from them first. I'm not sure how long it would take the way I am now, without the Force I'd be at a big disadvantage. I can fight and shoot without it, but I'd be outnumbered and probably wouldn't be able to kill them all before I was overwhelmed

She whimpered, looking away from a pirate who stared at her and gripped his genitals, thrusting his hips toward her. His friends laughed and wondered aloud if they'd be permitted to play with her, but one looked terrified at the thought. He shoved the man next to him, "Don't let him hear you idiot!"

Ullan stopped and looked at them.

"Would you like to play?" he asked coldly. He yanked her around with the chain.

"Tell them what I did to acquire you, slave."

Make something up. Nice and dramatic and frightening.

She looked down and brought tears to her eyes, she shivered as they ran down her face and dripped onto her chest.

"My... my brothers didn't realize my Lord was of the Sith. They threatened him, and he killed Daroc." she gave a soft sob, trying to edge away from Ullan and choked as he jerked her even closer to his side, "Veron offered me to him to spare his own life. My Lord pinned him to the wall as he took me in front of my brother. When my father tried to rescue me," she sniffed, "My Lord cut his throat."

She heard what had to be the mental equivalent of an exasperated sigh. 

These are pirates, you moron. They cut three throats before breakfast. Add something about how I flayed somebody's skin off and then murdered everyone in your home village. Drama!

Indeed, the pirates did seem to be waiting for the truly terrible part of the story.

"When he'd finished in," breath hitched, "with me, he burned the flesh from Veron's body, slowly with his lightsaber and dragged through the streets as an example. I... I tried to run and," she looked as though she wanted to run now, as though the thought of taking refuge among vicious pirates who took murder and rapine to a special level to be preferable, "He sealed all the houses shut and set them on fire. He just.. stood there and kept anyone from escaping with just his mind," her voice rose, "He made me watch as he burned them alive. Everyone, the whole town, my baby sister..." she swallowed hard and gasped as though fighting down her gorge.

He chuckled. "Quite an afternoon's entertainment," he said. The pirates seemed mollified, at least.

He resumed walking, giving her a hard yank on the leash. 

Amazing how you seem to find new ways to disappoint each day. How did you even make padawan?

I don't think Master Rens planned to teach me how to invent scenarios to horrify pirates for at least another year or two, she thought, not trying to project the thought but knowing she couldn't hide it. I'll try to learn to be scarier Master.

Don't kriffing try, slave, do! What are they even teaching in the temple now? Rens was even more useless than i thought.

They were led to a conference room, full of various species, the leadership of the pirate gangs. A tall Trandoshan rose from a chair to speak to him.  
"Lord Ullan-" he began, but Ullan held up a hand.

"Before you attempt to deceive me and maneuver for the best position to save your worthless lives, I need to speak to one of you. Commander Yan Filds, step forward."

Filds did not so much step forward as the group parted around him.

"Years ago, you commanded a relief convoy for Republic forces on Trevelone. The garrison was cut off and forced to abandon their fortifications in the face of a Mandalorian invasion. The relief convoy would have brought them fresh equipment and allowed them to hold against the assault. "  
"My lord Ullan-" Filds was snatched up into the air,grasping at his throat.

Ullan continued. "The convoy never arrived, of course. My gunner and I had to march the garrison over a hundred miles, then engage in a last stand against the Mandalorians. We lost nearly the entire garrison before I killed their commander. A strategic planet nearly fell because you, commander Filds, betrayed us. What do you have to say for yourself? "

Filds' feet kicked as he choked in midair.

"I thought as much," Ullan said. "I never forget a trespass, commander. I may have to wait to repay it, but I will always find one who has crossed me."

The dead body fell to the ground. "My apologies for bringing in old business," Ullan said as he walked around to the head of the table. "Let's not let that put a damper on this promising meeting of yours. I see this seat is open."

He sat at the head of the table, turned the chair sideways, and have her a Force nudge in the small of her back.

She knelt, more of a controlled fall than a graceful movement. She settled on her hands and knees, back straight as he placed his feet on her roughly. She knew everything between her legs was visible to anyone who looked, the triangle of material only drawing the eye rather than covering.

The floor under her knees and palms was filthy, even worse than the deck of the Maiden. She could see junk littered under the table and suddenly met the eye of another woman beneath the table. She was beautiful and Iocina thought she was at least as lovely as Bronus. The woman was also more covered in bruises than Iocina had collected since Vilargo, easily seen since she was entirely naked. She tried to give Iocina a shaky smile, just two miserable slaves making a connection.

The other pirates sat down in awkward silence.

"Oh, don't let me stop you. You were busy plotting the best part forward what with the war on. Dividing territories, plotting treacheries, and making alliances. From such humble and villainous gatherings, empires are forged. But," he shifted his feet on Iocina's back a bit "there are complications. Malak hates pirates. There's bad blood there, from the old days, and his orders are to exterminate on sight."

He shrugged. "Now personally I have no problem with killing you all."

There were hisses and curses. Hands surreptitiously reached for weapons.

"Mmm," he said "I didn't say I intended to. I've satisfied my needs for today. Thank you, Filds."

The dead man's hand lifted up suddenly and gave the room a cheery wave before flopping back down, lifeless.

"So why are you here, Lord Ullan? "

"Two reasons. One, I'm assigning you your hunting grounds. Any of you who deviate will face the full wrath of the Sith military. I'm offering you ripe pickings in undefended systems, and keeping you out of our way."

She shifted slightly as he moved his feet, adjusting herself to stay balanced. His legs were heavy, but she wasn't tiring yet. Eventually her arms would begin to tremble as lactic acid build in her muscles. She would have to compensate somehow, but shaking would be expected of her after awhile. If this had been in the Desarane and she'd had the Force she would have maintained a perfect posture. As much as she dreaded being punished, he might want to do so as an example.

The other slave began inching closer to her, making no sound as she crab walked beneath the tall table. She was even more lovely close up, but would look better if she were clean. Straight red hair hung limp around a pale freckled face. She said nothing, seeming to just take comfort in not being alone.

She wondered if Ullan's order to find another slave for him still stood, or if he'd even be interested in this one. She doubted this woman was skilled in the way Bronus was, but she could be trained.

"And the second?" the Trandoshan asked.

"Mmm? In exchange for sparing your lives and all that you value, I reserve the right to call on you all one day. For whatever I need."

Filds waved again.

"Very nice to have an example of what becomes of those who don't come when I require them."

"You'll keep us safe from Malak?"

"Until the war is over. Afterward, we'll figure something else out."

Iocina began to notice that as she felt warmer the wires around her body began to heat. Ah, so that's the pain toy, she thought. She'd been upset, in the confinement cells that just cutting her palm had brought her a flash of pleasure. This torment, growing stronger as she began to sweat, was delicious. She could feel her muscles begin to tremble, not just from holding up her own weight and Ullan's feet, but with rising arousal.

The slave pressed her mouth to Iocina's ear, and her words made her want to laugh. "Take me with you," she whispered.

Did this woman realize who, and what, Ullan was? She had to see that Iocina was battered and bruised even she wasn't as bad off as the slave. Iocina reflected on it, At least I'm clean, I suppose. And I have scandalous but whole clothing.

She gave the slave a frightened look, breath coming out in a pant. "You think I'd ask?" she murmured, voice gone rough.

"Can't say I don't like that," the Trandoshan said.

"Of course not. You'll scheme and deceive and try to find ways to push against me, just to prove you can."

He activated his lightsaber, waving it around casually. "It is what I'd probably do in your situation. The difference being that I would succeed, and you..." he waved it at them one at a time "...will become examples to the others when you try. I would recommend against being the first."

He twirled the lightsaber around, playing with it like a toy. "Any questions?"

The room was mute. He tossed a chip on the table. "Plug that in. Those are the territories. Divide them up as you will, I'll be here."

He flicked the lightsaber down at the slave woman suddenly. "Who is this?"

The slave woman scrabbled back away from it, crawling from beneath the table and away from him. One of the pirates grabbed the back of her neck and held her still.

"This thing?" he asked, "Just something I picked up recently."

She shivered, naked body covered in bruises and bloody scratches.

Iocina watched from the corner of her eye, she was trembling herself but with exertion.

"She's been useless so far, but she'll train up," he shook her roughly "Won'tcha?"

She nodded quickly eyes wide. She stared up the length of the red blade to dart a look at Ullan, then down at her feet.

"Useless?" he said. "Come here, slave," he said.

He lifted the lightsaber, deactivating the blade and clipping it back to his belt.

The pirate gave her a little shove, nearly knocking her down. She recovered and stepped forward to kneel at the Sith's feet, head lowered subserviently. She'd moved out of Iocina's line of sight, but she could hear the slave's teeth chattering.

He sat up, pulling his feet off of Iocina. "Are you worthless, slave?"

She opened her mouth and a small squeak came out, then she recovered. Her voice was rough, from screaming or being strangled it was hard to tell, although her throat was ringed with bruises. "I can become useful, my Lord," she said, "I can learn."

"All slaves can be tamed and made useful," he said. He looked up at the man. "Name your price, friend."

His tone was friendly, his eyes said 'think very carefully'.

Calculation was quickly replaced by fear, "Ah, my Lord," he said, trying to control his voice, "A gift in good faith, of course."

The terror in him swelled and Iocina suddenly felt bereft, all of her wistful imaginings of returning to the Jedi and being redeemed aside, she loved the sound of his fear. She wished she could taste it in the Force.

The slave let out a sigh of relief, half a laugh and a sob.

"Why, I couldn't simply take the slave for nothing. I believe a vessel just lost its captain recently, you may take it for your own. Your name?" He gestured to the slave, indicating the pose Iocina was in.

"Alianne, if it pleases you my Lord," she said, crawling forward and joining Iocina. Her fingers lightly touched Iocina's as she took her place.

He rested a foot on each one, settled on their heads. "That's nice but irrelevant, slave. I was referring to the good captain here, who I actually hadn't made the acquaintance of before."

"Jadus Vatch," he said, "My Lord," hooking his thumbs into his belt. He was mostly human, black hair streaked with gray framing a weathered face. His eyes were amber and his sharp canines showed some sort of alien ancestry.

"Captain Vatch, a pleasure. I have a feeling we will meet again."

He waved a hand. "In any event, continue." He waved a hand. "I'll interject if things become contentious. I do have a busy schedule, so I would suggest we make this quick so I can get on about building our future."

The pirates fell into intense discussion, occasionally throwing questions to him.

"Are you sure they've stripped this section of defenses?"

"Does the intelligence report indicate it? Then yes," he said.

After an hour's discussion, some of the pirates seemed intensely satisfied with their territorial gains. Captain Vatch, his fleet newly strengthened, seemed touched by fortune and pulled one of the more prime hunting grounds.

"You see," Ullan informed Vatch "the slave was entirely useful after all. Simply a matter of perspective."

Alianne could feel the other slave twitching slightly against her and flicked her eyes to her. The darker skinned woman had half lidded eyes, breath coming in short pants. For a moment she thought she was in pain, but the tiniest sound that slipped from pink lips was one of pleasure. Sith magic? She'd heard wild tales of such things, revived since the wars had started.

Iocina tried to get hold of herself, she was reaching a point where pleasure was becoming agony and she knew she could only show terror and respect in front of these men.

Ullan lunged to his feet suddenly. "Right, I know the names and faces for each territory. If you decide to dispute who owns which patch later, remember to keep your conflicts inside the indicated Republic zones. If you try to return to Sith space, Malak will hunt you like animals, and I will freely facilitate his efforts in this regard."

He gave Iocina's chain a hard yank. "Come along, slaves." As he walked out, he deliberately stepped over Filds' body. "A pleasure, gentlebeings. Good hunting."

Iocina made a show of stumbling over the body, whimpering as her bare foot brushed the dead man's hand. She was surprised when the slave, Alianne steadied her. The woman huddled close to Ullan's heels on his other side, moving as quickly as though she too were chained. There was a strange relief on her features and Iocina wondered what Vatch, and probably his crew, had done to her to make throwing herself at Ullan would be better.

He sauntered slowly through the halls, giving Iocina regular little tugs on the chain, prolonging her exposure even as the costume continued to torment her worse and worse, her sweat in the clammy atmosphere make the situation that much worse.

Her flesh beneath the costume twitched as the wires performed their function, pain-toy indeed. Each time she thought she might collapse from weak knees Ullan tugged the chain, bringing her just enough out of it to keep going. Those around them would have thought her soft whimpers were fear or pain, since that was naturally what they expected to see.

He swaggered up the stairs back into the ship, then the door cycled closed. Once they were out of sight, he relaxed, the Sith Lord veneer falling away as easily as the cloak that he discarded on the floor.

"Attend me in the cockpit, slaves. New slave, bring water."

He sat down in the seat, ran through the security checks, then powered up the engine.

"Yes my Lord," Alianne hustled away to search for the galley.

Iocina picked up the cloak and carefully folded it, hands trembling. Her own mask had crumbled and she knew that her need was naked on her face. She stored the cloak and went to kneel behind the pilot's seat. The new slave quickly appeared, bearing a tray with a cup and pitcher of water. She knelt, shakily, and offered it to him. Her movements weren't well practiced. Iocina wondered how long she'd been enslaved, not long probably. She'd probably just been an ordinary girl taken planetside or from a boarded ship.

"Keep her dress nice and damp," he ordered, waving at Iocina. "Now, let's get out of here."

He slammed the thrust lever down, accelerating the ship out of the hangar bay at flank speed, incinerating a few unlucky pirates who'd been standing too near the thrusters. Once out he cut a hard spiraling turn up above the plane of the fleet, then punched in the coordinates for a lightspeed jump.

Alianne blinked at the odd command, but placed the tray on the floor beside her and took up the pitcher. The dark haired woman was in a deep bow, hands on either side of her lowered head. She poured a third of the water down the slave's back and as it soaked into her clothing the woman cried out. She spasmed against the floor, letting out sobbing moans. Alianne put the pitcher on the tray and watched fascinated as the woman whimpered and writhed. As the water fully soaked into the fabric she could make out a tracery of seams that had nothing to do with the garments construction, and a tiny matte black metal device attached at the small of her back. She shivered, not knowing what to do now and tried to copy the other slaves deep obeisance.

He rotated in the chair and watched Iocina writhe. "So tell me, New Slave, where are you from?"

She answered, carefully keeping her face pressed to the floor. "Corellia, my Lord," she bit her tongue before she tried to elaborate. She'd only been to her home planet twice, her parents having been the wandering sort. He wouldn't care anyway. The other girl's shifting and soft cries were disturbing, and she tried not to cringe away from her.

"Corellia," he said. He was reaching into her mind as he spoke, probing gently at first to gauge the truth of her answers, lightly enough that she wouldn't feel it initially.

"What did you do before becoming a worthless slave?" he asked.

"Followed my parents," she said, "My mother was an artist, my father had enough money they could wander around looking for things she could paint," her eyes were dry as a desert, she'd cried for them long enough to be inured to grief. Her mother had been a terrible painter, but her father had indulged the love of his life and everything had been laughter and fun before they'd been taken by the pirates.

"So do you have any useful skills or abilities?"

He nodded toward Iocina. "She's drying off. Damp her down again."

She rose to her knees, lifting the pitcher and pouring more water over the girl who nearly screamed it touched her back, What is happening to her? she wondered, replacing the pitcher and returning to her position. The water had pooled beneath the other woman and was spreading across the floor.

Useful? she thought, What would a Sith Lord think was useful?

"I can sing," she said, feeling stupid, "I can cook as well as many trained chefs, I can clean," she carefully didn't mention what Vatch had tried to make of her, why he'd called her useless.

He nodded. "Basic material, you would have amounted to nothing in another life. But, little slave, with me you will be useful. You will serve."

He reached out and touched her forehead. "You will suffer in my service. There is every chance you will die following my orders. I will torment you for my pleasures and if need be, I will sacrifice you without hesitation. Fail me, and I will teach you new definitions of pain."

He nudged Iocina with his boot. "But it could be worse. You could be this scrap of flesh."

She began to shiver almost as violently as the other slave, wanting to flinch from the touch between her eyes, but held herself still. Even with his terrifying words, she still believed she was better off here. It was a depressing thought, but she'd been living like an animal for five years and nothing could be worse than that.

"Thank you my Lord," she murmured. She considered crawling forward to kiss his shoe to show her true effusive gratitude, but his hand was still on her and she dared not move.

He sensed her impulse, and released his grip, thrusting his shoe forward.  
Go ahead.

She'd crawled forward to press her mouth firmly against the leather before it registered that his voice had been in her mind. She lifted her lips and pressed her forehead against the leather for a long moment.

Iocina barely noticed her master's voice as he questioned his new slave, locked in an endless futile desire to reach her climax. She seized, her only conscious thought was to keep her obedient position.

As even more water trickled down her body she let out a scream, hips bucking against the floor in desperation. She could tell she was on the verge of fainting, lights exploding behind her eyes.

He looked down at Iocina scornfully. "Weak," he muttered. "Take her clothes off, then go clean yourself," he ordered Alianne. "She will orient you on your new place in life."

"Yes my Lord." She lifted herself up and began tugging at the wet fabric, gripping the other woman's shoulders and turning her over to work the fastenings. When she had it half off her hand brushed an exposed coil of wire and a hot current shot through her hand. She flinched back and gritted her teeth, understanding now. She reached behind to take the black box in her fingers and found the switch to turn off the device.

Iocina gasped, body relaxing. Weak, she thought scornfully, pathetic. she fought not to shove Alianne away. At the moment, they were essentially equals.

"I'm alright," she said quietly, helping the other slave to peel the wet clothing off. Self conciously she rubbed the material between her legs to clean herself off while lianne looked studiously away. "My name is Iocina," she said, "do everything you can to please him."

Alianne nodded emphatically and picked up the tray and pitcher as Iocina rose with the dress in hand.

"First we'll get this water up," she said, keeping her voice low. Her hands still trembled but she was getting her strength back.

Iocina settled the new slave in the sonic shower and hung the black dress over a rail to dry. She'd rung most of the water out of it in the galley but it would take awhile to dry out. She touched it with her fingertips, as perverse as it was she hoped she'd get a chance to wear it again.

When Alianne stepped out of the 'fresher Iocina realized some of the bruising had been dirt and oil from crawling on the floor. Her skin was dusted with golden freckles all over.

"Our Lord loves power, fear, and pain," she began.

She taught the girl how to kneel properly, how to place her body into the full submission, and how to do it all gracefully. She showed her how to offer food and drink, and all the things she'd taken from Bronus' mind.

When she'd exhausted her own rather incomplete knowledge she led to Ullan and they both dropped to their knees.

He stared at them musingly, reached out and poked at Alianne, prodding at her.

He glanced over Iocina. "The new slave is your responsibility. For any errors she makes, you will suffer with her."

He flitted into Iocina's mind. Now you begin to learn what it could be to be Sith. You will test her, mentally and physically. Determine her limits. Determine her loyalty. If you need my action or ship's systems for a test, make your request to me as needed.

She met his eyes, it was difficult to project her thoughts without the Force, How shall I test her, Master? That can mean a lot of things, and I don't want to fail you.

Initiative, slave. This is your opportunity to impress me. See if she is clever, see if she has any innate strength, see how deep her loyalty runs. For example, were I to pass her off to someone else with a mission, would she promptly develop moral qualms and attempt to betray me?

He looked over at Alianne, then back at Iocina. She is not the only one being tested here, slave.

"Yes Master," she answered aloud, a test in itself to reveal how Alianne reacted to it. She watched her from the corner of her eye.

Alianne glanced over at her but did not reply, since she was not the one addressed. Her mind whirled with possibilities- what did Sith Lords want? She knew what her previous masters wanted, but this was entirely unknown territory.

"Get to work," he told Iocina.

Iocina got up without looking to see if Alianne was following her, her mind ticking over possibilities. The first thing she could think of was to play up her own disgrace. Test the girl's loyalty to see how it was now, then test another time to see how it evolved. The easiest way to do this was to bring her own loyalties into question and find out whether she would tattle. She would either keep it secret to help her fellow slave and possibly be punished herself or tell Ullan and save her own skin while Iocina was punished. All she needed was an opening...

Alianne followed behind, quiet but observant, surveying hiding places. A ship full of degenerates who were intoxicated more often than not had ground into her the virtue of being out of sight and out of mind.

Ullan was terrifying, but he was one and he seemed to have rules.

Rules she could learn.

Iocina began to show her around the ship, finally ending up in Ullan's personal 'fresher. The towel he'd used that morning was still damp so she used it to start wiping out the shower. "I'm not sure," she said uncertainly, "What my Lord will ask of you at different times. Today I bathed and dressed him, then prepared a meal."

Alianne began looking for sanitizer and found it in a cubby beneath the towel rack. While she cleaned the 'fresher Iocina made the bed. Here was a moment to gauge a reaction.

Alianne returned to the cabin and discovered Iocina wiping down a pair of binders fastened with a few inches of chain to the floor.

"What are those for?" she asked with trepidation, For punishment, obviously. What sort of mistakes warrent what sorts of punishments?

Iocina let out a shaking breath, "For me," she said. She hunched her shoulders and wrapped her arms around herself, she looked up at the younger woman with naked fear on her face, "Don't ever fail him," she said, then looked down, "and whatever you do don't try to escape. There is no where safe, he'll always find you."

"You tried to escape?" Alianne asked, unable to conceal a hint of judgment. She didn't know Sith, but she'd heard the pirates, hardened killers, speak of them fearfully. Jedi were terrible, unstoppable and all-seeing, and Sith were what made Jedi afraid. What kind of fool would even try to run?

Iocina looked up at her sharply, "You don't know what I was, how hard this is for me," she trailed off, "He sent me on a mission and I was captured... by the Jedi. They were willing to keep me, but I saw they had done something horrible and had to escape them as well. I failed my mission and my Lord brought me back, well, that was two days ago."

All the energy seemed to drain out of her and she gently lay the clean manacles on the deck without making them clink, "If I ever got a chance, I'd do it again." she whispered, just loudly enough to be heard.

She shook herself and stood, "I'll be right back, I need to wash my hands," she said, then experimentally added, "Can... can you ask him what he would like for evening meal?" she scuttled out of the room as though she expected something to be thrown at her and went to what she was thinking of as the 'slaves 'fresher' and scrubbed her hands. Then she waited.

Alianne processed the information, still too unsure of the relationships here to do anything with it other than file it away for the moment. She crept back into his presence, where he sat twirling his lightsaber around his hand.

"Master?"

"Yes, New Slave?"

"The other slave wishes to know what you want for an evening meal."

"Processed rokab, lightly browned, with a side of borut and kafta. Also, tell her to try you in some clothing."

He looked her over, blue eyes piercing into her. "Anything else?"

"No master..."

He could read minds. Had he heard the momentary disloyalty of the other slave? She shivered at the thought, wondering if she would be punished for not speaking it immediately. What would he do if she didn't report such things and he glimpsed it later.

"What is it, slave?"

She felt her heart flutter in a momentary panic, eyes boring in on the lightsaber that now rested still in his hand. She had seen him wave it about casually, seen how it had made every other being in the room tense up as though death was in their very midst.

"I believe the other slave... has... disloyal thoughts, master."

He lowered the lightsaber, aimed the emitter at her face, gently rapped the cool metal against her forehead.

"What makes you say that, slave?"

"She said, well, she said she would do it again."

"Do what again?"

"I don't know," she said, tears beginning to leak from her eyes. "Something to do with the Jedi."

"Aaaaaah," he said. He reclipped his lightsaber, then leaned close to her. "It's good of you to tell me these things, slave. Always watch your fellow slaves for disloyalty or even behaviors you don't understand, and then tell me about them."

She shivered once more, this time in relief. "Of course, master. I serve only you. Only you." She lowered herself to the ground, pressing her lips against his boot. One man. One power. One set of rules. She could do this.

"Tell the other slave what to make me for dinner. I will handle this over our meal."

Alianne walked into the galley to find Iocina leaning her head against the wall very gently. The older girl's nude body was covered in bruises, though not as many as her own. How could she be disloyal, after knowing how powerful their Lord was? She was right of course, there was no place he wouldn't find them and no way he would let his belonging go.

"Master has requested rokab, borut, and kafta for his meal, and to give me clothing," she said, she felt a bit more confident having seemed to have pleased him. She'd noted that he hadn't requested that the other slave wear clothing herself, and that gave her a bit of satisfaction as well.

Iocina nodded and began to program the synthesizer to prepare the dishes. She had time to find clothing for Alianne before she had to arrange them on a plate and deliver it.

"I think Bronus left the clothing in a cabinet near the shower," she said, quickly walking toward it. She had to stop herself from walking like a fighter, a warrior who knew what she was doing with a weapon. She tried to move like Bronus, swaying her hips and taking elegant short steps.

"Bronus?" Alianne asked, slightly worried.

"Master's other slave," Iocina looked humiliated, "she is his favorite and is on some mission of her own for him. I've not been trusted to know what that is," she said.

There were more black costumes, some were new and made of more expensive materials than the first ones Bronus had fashioned from Sith robes. One wasn't black at all, just a dark purple that was nearly black. She pulled it out and held it up to the younger girl, "This one I think," she said, holding it out. She made a show of running a hand down one or two of the dresses before closing the door as though she wanted to wear them.

Alianne slipped into it, sheer silk clinging to her body. The color accentuated the bruises on her arms and face and she wondered if the other slave had done that on purpose.

Iocina was plating the food as Alianne returned, "I'll present this, please watch how I do it. Take the water pitcher and offer it the same way I do," she instructed, not waiting to see if she was followed.

Alianne followed along. When they arrived at the cockpit, Ullan was no longer present.

They discovered him in the galley, reading from a portable terminal. He looked up as Iocina presented the food, then poked at it. "This is cold. Throw it out and make me a fresh batch, slave."

She bit her lip and lowered her head, silently turning to scrape the food into the compactor and washing the plate clean and starting over. She made show of trembling hands as she did so, though not as theatrical as she'd done with the pirates. She had a feeling the other slave was smarter than that.

Alianne knelt as gracefully as she could, frustrated that she couldn't manage the movement as smoothly as the older slave. She thought it made a better effect in the skirt than nude at least. She held a tray with water pitcher and glass above her head in offering.

He accepted the meal this time. As he ate he glanced over at Iocina. "It's been a busy few days, hasn't it?"

"Yes Master," she murmured, kneeling into the full submission. It was oddly comfortable now, even the cool feeling of the metal under her body didn't bother her. The first time she'd done this, before Rens' ghost, had nearly broken her heart. Now, as she'd told Vandar, she loved it.

Alianne joined her, more awkwardly, though she felt the sincerity of the pose. 'Master'. It was a warm word, to belong.

"We perhaps haven't had time to fully process your feelings on recent events."

The plate clinked as he cut a piece of meat. He chewed on it thoughtfully. "Were there any thoughts you care to share with me, now that we have time to talk?" He took a drink as he waited.

Iocina wasn't stupid enough to think any of this was purely for the new slave's benefit. This was a test for her as well. Unless it wasn't. Ullan never seemed to have one distinct motivation for anything.

"I was," she began, "I am weak. Away from your hand I fell prey to rebellious thoughts and believed I could return to the fold, that i could belong again at the Temple," she kept it sufficiently vague, if Ullan wanted Alianne to know Iocina had been a Jedi he might rather reveal it himself.

The cold metal around her neck still felt like running water moving in slow motion. When she'd been a sobbing mess of lust on the floor of the cockpit it had quickened, rolling in icy waves across her skin. It was uncomfortable, and she sincerely hoped he'd remove it soon.

"And do you have those thoughts still, slave? If you would like to leave, the ship has an airlock."

Alianne marveled at Master Ullan's cleverness. By broaching the subject this way, he made it seem as though it was mere curiosity on his part, a simple inquiry or perhaps something he'd plucked from Iocina's mind.

She had seen how other slaves had risen and fallen in favor among the pirates, how the pirates themselves had jockeyed for position and favor. This was a game she could understand, and if master rewarded vigilance on her fellow slaves, she would give it. Iocina was under a cloud, perhaps near death.

Any moment he was focused on Iocina was a moment he wasn't hurting her. She could see how this world worked, and knew she could live within it.

"N..no, Master I swear," she whispered, "Even if I did I have nowhere to go now. You said yourself they will kill me now if they even see me, even though I was useless and failed you," 

Beside her she felt Alianne squirm slightly, Is she enjoying this? she wondered, If she is, it will either amuse Ullan or annoy him. I'm not sure which is more interesting. 

She continued to grovel, "Please don't throw this worthless slave from the airlock again!" Now that made the other girl go completely still.

"Oh, not that again. No, I'm more in the mood for injecting Delvian Flesheater larvae under your skin. I believe the record is twenty-three days of survival. Of course that was a wookiee and not a weakling slime such as yourself."

She felt his touch in her mind, enough that she could suddenly tell he'd been there for some time. As he unmasked his presence the collar undulated around her neck, Frost rimed across its surface.

::Interesting test. Now, how to interpret it. What do you think?::

She didn't try to stifle the surprised cry at the sudden ring of cold fire around her throat, but instead made it a little louder than necessary.

::She's enjoying the power she thinks she has over me, and she's more loyal in a few hours than I was in two weeks. She's got a mean streak, I think if she were a sensitive I'd have a run for my money, she paused, Actually, is she a sensitive? I can't tell with the suppressors::

::Interesting read. She's not sensitive, merely a scrap that caught my eye. Interesting things float along the tides of the Force, and she happened to drift our way. I have no idea what she's going to amount to, but whatever she is, I intend to make the fullest use of her. Do not punish or harm her without my express permission. I am going to punish you now. For her benefit it will be for your disloyalty. For you, it will be for being such a pathetically poor storyteller for my pet pirates. Do make a better performance this time.::

He turned from his plate. "Still," he said "You must suffer for your failure."

She cringed, trying to press her whole body flat against the floor. She was only ninety percent acting, she was beginning to have a fear, hate, lust sort of relationship with pain but wasn't quite ready to begin seeking out opportunities to test it. That ten percent of real fear was enough for the collar to becoming a constantly swirling band of ice that seemed to grow sharp edges as it spun, never quite splitting her skin.

She wished she could get a glimpse of the other girl's expression, but she didn't lift her face to look and besides that Alianne's face as well was pressed to the deck.

"A lesson, new slave. When punishment is due, a slave begs for it. Begs to be corrected. Begs to be cleansed of failings by the master."

"Yes master, I understand," Alianne said. "Thank you for instructing your worthless slave."

::Oh, she knows the game! She should be teaching you!:: He exulted in Iocina's mind.

She tried to send him the equivalent of a grin, she wished fervently now that she could sense his emotions flowing in her again. It was incredible how she'd felt so conflicted during her two weeks under his power, how confused after her rescue, yet now she felt clear purpose beginning to burn in her.

"Please, Master Ullan. I mean, my Lord Ullan, for this one's failure she knows she must be punished. For being taken," she bit off her words as though not wanting to admit her failure, then continued, "for willingly going with your enemies this slave has earned your ire and submits to whatever punishment you mete out."

"Insufficient," he said, the syllables clicking distinctly from his tongue. "Of course you deserve to suffer. But you must beg for it first."

Alianne listened avidly. She felt no remorse for Iocina's downfall. Life was a zero sum game of power and weakness, and she had taken this other woman's power away, thus buying herself a moment's peace and privilege. In the razor's edge life of a slave, this was an advantage not to pass up.

Moreover, so inside she felt a stirring, a sense of power like she'd never known before. She was the cause behind this, the instrument of Iocina's suffering.

It was delicious. It was stimulating in a way she'd never felt before. Heat rushed through her body as she smelled the familiar stench of fear sweat.

If only she could watch!

"Please Master, punish me," she began voice very quiet but beginning to rise as she truly did begin to crave pain, even knowing she wouldn't get a release at the end of it, "work your will on this one's body, torment is all it deserve and all it should live for. This one's suffering is all that is useful about it, to make amends for being such a worthless coward this one must make amends through its pain."

She realized suddenly that she wasn't acting, and knew he would know. This was how she should have approached him, with humility and subservience instead of sarcasm and posturing. She really did deserve this punishment as much as what he'd done to her yesterday. She tried to put that into her pleading voice, to let him know how she truly felt now. She really did want him to make something of her, and as she'd said breaking her was the best way to accomplish that. She was even more willing than she'd begged for it the first time.

::I will make you into something amusing and possibly even useful,:: He promised, even as she floated gently into the air.

Suddenly her legs split wide, a savagely hard stretch that threatened to tear her hips from their sockets. Her back arched, popping and creaking under the pressure, bending painfully to the extent of its flexibility. Her shoulders bent backwards, wrists folding against her forearms.

::Thank you, Master.::

She screamed, joints that had only just been full healed beginning to tear again. Even with kolto and three days worth of healing trance could never quite mend every bit of damage done to a body. Her knee and shoulders, so recently dislocated, felt like they were loosening and waiting for even a slight twist to come free and dangle useless.

She pictured herself, crawling behind him while her arm dragged at her side as Hivvis and Truli followed in her wake.

Alianne felt the warmth spread through her as Iocina screamed, a heat like she'd never known. Sex had long been a simple business for her. Often it was simply taken, a thing to be endured. Occasionally it could be used for barter, for an extra scrap of food or a warm place to sleep, a bit of protective favor from a kindlier monster.

Never before today had she felt this, a sheer rush of pleasure that danced through her body as Iocina screamed in agony. This was power. This was control. This was what a master felt. No wonder they were so cruel. She had heard the music of a dozen different species, from Jizz Wails to haunting Ithorian opera, but never a sound so sweet as this.

She ached to reach between her legs, to explore the sensations that had been awakened.

::Go ahead.::

Her hands fairly dove between her legs, manipulating herself in a way she so rarely had done before, discovering new and powerful sensations as she did.

Ullan continued eating, apparently unperturbed as one slave screamed and the other masturbated. Both could feel him in their minds, though, feasting on the suffering of one and savoring the birth of a monster with the other, as Alianne's sordid suffering collapsed to re-emerge like the first fiery dawn of a new star.

The not-metal band around her throat felt like razors, as though ready to slit her throat. It felt like it was cutting, but there was no blood. This thing had to be of Sith origin, if she'd had the ability Iocina would be able to sense the dark side in it. As it was it intensified the pain that clenched her in a remorseless grip.

Screaming, well she'd become used to that, to the way her throat felt scratchy and raw afterwords. To salty copper taste in her mouth from biting her tongue. She could feel a thin stream of it slip from one corner of her mouth. Twisting in the air she tried to twist pain into pleasure. Oh, it was pleasure - that pattern was likely permanent. If she'd stayed with the Jedi, and she hadn't seen Revan, doubtless they'd have had mind-healer remove the channel but now she tried to find it on purpose. It was impossible, without the Force she couldn't quite reach the perfect exquisite state balanced between agony and orgasm.

All she could do was scream; her pleasure and her pain in one ragged breath after another.

Being so unfamiliar, the sensation peaked quickly for Alianne. Even as she cried out her orgasm and slumped limply in its aftermath, Ullan allowed Iocina to drop to the floor. Alianne lay shivering, hearing Iocina's whimpers and already hungry for more. Already as the sensation faded, she prayed openly in her mind to this glorious dark god, to the Master of Masters, to make Iocina scream again. She offered all her devotions, pledged her eternal loyalties, her fealty to the death. Just a little more...

::Not now, slave.::

He finished the last bite of his meal. "After punishment the slave expresses her gratitude for the act," he said.

Iocina lay with her face away from the slave to hide the smile on her face before smoothing her expression and crawling forward. As soon as she pressed her mouth against Ullan's boot Alianne did as well. Every movement Iocina made Alianne copied and strove to out do.

"Thank you Master for instructing this one in the price of disloyalty, she will remember her place beneath your heel."

He put the remnants of his plate down on the floor. "Share," he said.

Alianne hesitated, unsure of the concept or meaning of the word.

A test of obedience, or another power game? Iocina lowered her face to the plate and took a mouth full of food and gave her an opportunity to take some. Alianne would either take the same amount or try to get more for herself.

Alianne half surprised her by only taking a mouth full herself. Under Ullan's eye she'd obey perfectly, but Iocina wondered what she'd do if he wasn't watching. They continued to take turns. The last bite should have gone to Iocina but she let the slave have it, looking away as though she felt Alianne deserved it more.

Alianne felt a fresh surge of power and fought down the urge to giggle. Now she was the one taking food away. What greater power was there? She didn't know, but she hoped to find out.

"Clean this ship from one end to the other. I want it spotless enough to eat off of, and remember you probably will be doing exactly that at any given place." He rose from the table and walked away.

"Yes my Lord, thank you my Lord," Iocina scrambled to her feet and fled the galley. Behind her she could hear the the slave repeating the phrase with an almost religious fervor. They both walked down the hallway and Iocina made sure to keep ahead.

Iocina stopped to fill a basin of water and carried into the cargo hold, Alianne following a few moments later with a container of cleaning supplies

Have those always been there? Iocina thought, glancing at a pair of circular force cages on the wall furthest from the door.

Alianne set about the work with fervor, watching Iocina from the corner of her eyes. She was practically glowing with excitement, though she constantly tugged at her costume now, trying to find a comfortable adjustment for it.

"Is something wrong?" Iocina said with artful innocence. She hadnt checked the dress for any surprises, although Bronus may have already added some to the new costumes.

The closed ramp into the ship was filthy, covered in grime from Nar Shaddaa. She began to clean it, scraping residue from between the traction grating.

"It pinches," she complained. "And... ow!" She winced and tried to pull the dress away from her side. She stopped cleaning altogether to wrestle with the costume.

"Ah, didn't I tell you earlier that our Master loves pain? All the clothing his slaves wear have something painful or uncomfortable incorporated in them," she smiled slyly, "I actually feel very fortunate to be naked right now, it's easier on me."

Iocina cleaned silently, enjoying a few small sounds of discomfort from the slave, "Actually after a while you'll begin to enjoy it," she turned to face her and, when she had her attention, reached a hand between her own legs. Her palm and fingers came away wet and glistening in the harsh overhead glow panels, "You see? He's touched my mind to find agony as pleasurable as ecstasy. Now it's becoming more and more difficult to tell the difference."

"Oh," she said quietly, the revelation seeming to deflate her somewhat. "So do you fear being punished, then?"

"Yes," Iocina said, "he can be very creative. It isn't only pain he commands but fear as well," she pointed a finger towards the airlock, "he's thrown me out of it before, luckily in a suit and tethered to the hull. I had to kill all the mynocks infesting the outside of the ship."

She stepped back to view her work, the sonic cleanser had etched away all the dirt but let a pile of dry flakes along the length of the doorway. "Sweep this up and I'll check the rest of the room," she said.

She moved to the corner where she'd seen the force cages, trying to remember if she'd noticed them before. If they're new I wonder what they're for? One could have been for me, if I'd come back even more rebellious than before or if he'd had to recapture me.

"Performing tasks outside of the ship, whether literally outside or on a planet, could you do anything you were told?" she made her voice barely loud enough for the girl to hear from the other side of the room. "I failed my mission because I was a coward. I was ordered to kill a being who I loved, who was like a father to me... I couldn't do it."

"I have nobody like that," she said simply. "He is strong and I will be what he wishes. Anything he wishes."

She could feel Alianne's eyes on her, challenging now.

Alianne's own father had been weak, ineffectual, unable to defend them. She couldn't imagine wasting a great deal of care on such a person, or any other person for that matter. Survival was what mattered. Survival, and now? Power.

The cages were shiny and polished, as though new. That didn't really tell any story, though- if they were unused, naturally they would be clean. What was clear is that they were ready to be used at the touch of a button.

Iocina saw the calculation in the other woman's eyes from the corners of her own. She was examining the force cages too, but not with curiosity. Is she wondering how she can trick me into one now, or if she can manipulate a situation where she thinks I'll be put in one for punishment? she thought, it was an interesting thing to consider.

These sorts of cages could be used for minor torture, electrocution was usually the built in method. But the sort of shock it could produce was actually rather minor compared to suffering under Sith lightning. The dark side power harmed not only a body but a mind too.

I'm not going to give her an opening this time, lets see if she can be clever about it.

"Looks like these are new, hm," she said, "I've only been gone a few days, maybe he picked them up on Nar Shaddaa."

"Maybe we're to sleep in them?" she asked. She studied them herself, running a finger over the controls. "Do you know how they work?"

"I sleep in the Master's room, chained to the floor as I told you, and no, I don't know how they work," she said, knowing exactly how they worked. Yuld had explained it to her and showed her several ways to escape one using the Force, "I've never even seen one up close. Actually, the master I had before Ullan was very kind to me. I never wanted for anything, he never beat me, we were practically family."

Iocina wanted to watch her face but it would be too obvious, she'd called Ullan by his name, then given her another reason to hate her. She was having fun with this. A tiny part of her still thought that was rather, well, messed up, but it was easily silenced. All those doubts and rationalizations were beginning to fade away, and she was glad of it.

"Did our master kill your old master?" There was contempt in her voice for the very idea of such a weak master who did not enforce his will.

"His body, yes." Iocina looked down, it didn't really hurt, but she'd forgotten Yuld's ghost. Did her Master still have the holocron? Would he let her see it sometime?

"What do you mean, his body?" Alianne asked.

"He has his soul imprisoned in a Sith artifact," she answered, pointedly moving away from the cage.

"He can do that?" she asked, then answered her own question. "Of course he can. He is power."

She stroked the wall, her voice taking on a dreamy quality. "What is the worst thing he's ever done to you?"

She wanted to know, so she could see it topped.

She had to think about it, what was the worst thing? "Hm, its hard to choose actually. If you're talking about the worst pain I've endured, that was when the channels between pain and pleasure were created. It was a combination of a beating where he dislocated my shoulder and my knee, then tortured me with dark side energy. I then had to spar with him with all my injuries," she answered, that had probably been the worst.

She turned and began gathering up the supplies to move onto another room, "Then before I was given my mission to kill my old friend, he tortured me in front of him and his apprentice. After Master killed the apprentice he allowed the master to escape with me," she moved into the hallway and knelt to clean the dust from the floor, "That was when I failed, my friend rendered me unconscious and when I woke I was strapped to a bed on another planet."

"Wait, sparred? As in fighting him?" she asked, her voice incredulous.

Iocina nodded, head bent to her task. She had no real intention of revealing that she was more than a slave until her Master wished her to, but she did want to see if Alianne was clever enough to figure it out. If she didn't puzzle it out and her Master didn't ask Iocina to tell her, she'd definitely learn something was seriously skewed if Bronus returned and addressed her as 'Mistress Worm.’

"I think he wanted me to feel I could hurt him back, in order to show him my true weakness and humiliate me. He's done that once before, when he first made me submit to him."

"Ah," she said. "And of course you couldn't."

That fit the picture. She wondered if he would test her so, but doubted it. She clearly wasn't as slow on the uptake as Iocina. She looked around the room, then collected the cleaning supplies once more. "We should be working and not talking."

"You're right I suppose," she scrubbed with a will, now actively showing that she could work very hard indeed. Alianne wasn't a weakling, she was thin but what there was of her was all muscle. She hadn't had Iocina's physical training, but then Iocina had been malnourished, overworked, or bedridden in turns the last three weeks. It seemed they were about even, and got done with all the corridors at nearly the same time.

"I'll take the cockpit if you take the galley," she said, "I've been taught how to care for all the machinery and also see if it needs to be calibrated or whether anything is wrong with the systems," she wished she knew where her Master was, she'd get a chance to speak to him at some point soon, mentally if not out loud. She had a theory she wanted to try.

Alianne nodded. "I'll take care of it, Iocina."

She reached out to grab the other woman's elbow and gave Iocina a smile. "Thank you for explaining things to me."

Alianne was quite good at masking her feelings, a survival trait in her old environment. By all appearances, her gratitude could well have been sincere. But there was just the slightest glint of avarice in her eye that spoke to hidden depths and forming plots.

——

Ullan was in the cockpit fiddling around under the console.

"Hand me that hydrospanner," he said, reaching out a hand.

 

"You know Master, I'm a few years older than her and I want to be more like her when I grow up," she said under her breath as she pulled out the tool and handed it over, "Do you want me to just clean or do you need a hand?"

"You should see what goes on in that devious little mind," he said. "Kneel there and talk, I want to hear your observations and see if anything's going on in your rather less devious and more simplistic brain. Then you can clean. Then you can go fix the equipment she's about to damage in the galley and blame on you for not showing her how to operate it."

She grinned and knelt, "I think she's always been on the bottom of everyone's list and now that she sees an opportunity to grab some power for herself she's very eager to do so. I've been playing a bit weak and ineffectual, and she's reveling in wanting to please you and obey any order you give her. I think she'd do it no matter what, but if it gave her a chance to keep me ground down below her she'd do it with even more enthusiasm."

She thought for a moment, "I want to give her a chance where she thinks she can hurt me badly, maybe even think she could kill me. What I was thinking was you find something to blame on me, nothing so simple as a broken machine but perhaps wrong thoughts or secretly communicating with the Jedi. Then shove me in the suit again and shove me out the airlock. Give me two tethers, the one connected to the inside that can be unhooked in an emergency if its caught on something, and one outside that I can keep hold of. I want to see if she'll take the opportunity," she squirmed, and knew part of her wanted to see Alianne get punished as well. It wasn't the same desire as the slave had, which was to gain power over Iocina through manipulation and then gain favor with her new master. Iocina was finally relenting to the feeling she'd had the first night with Bronus, wanting to draw nails down her skin and mar that perfect flesh with blood. "What do you think?"

"What, precisely, would you be testing in her with that?" he asked, levitating a part into place, then applying the hydrospanner to it. "Articulate your thoughts. I already know how we can arrange such a thing, and it could even be very amusing."

"When I asked her what she was willing to do for you on a mission she said she'd do anything and that, unlike my cowardly self, she has no emotional ties and will serve you in any way," she said, "I want to see whether she'd try and kill me without your permission. Obeying your orders is one thing, trying to circumvent them is another. You'll need to see if she will work with who she is told to, not just try and jockey for power all the time," she shrugged, "Not that I can say anything, of course, Master. I've failed you once, and I'll need to prove I can obey in the future," a pause, "It will be easier now, since all my ties are broken. I also think I'm learning to hate. You said my hate was a pitiful thing, but its getting stronger."

He snorted at that. "You still don't know the meaning of the word. Your feelings for Vrook are the resentful whining of a child. And your ties aren't broken. I still couldn't trust you with Hyvvis. One look into those big soulful eyes of his, you'd probably melt and beg him to please take you in and teach you how to serve the Force. After all, he saved you, unless of course this was a ploy to stir dissension around the idea Revan is still alive."

Iocina shrugged again, "And that's why I completely understand I have to stay on the ship until I'm properly broken in," she said it lightly, but her eyes were serious.

He laughed at that. "No, you'll just continue to do what I tell you to do until you're properly broken in."

He used the Force to grip her collar, violently tugging her head toward the floor. His grip relented, catching her just before she would have smashed facedown, allowing her nose to graze gently against the surface.

"Never assume you know what I'm doing, or planning, or intend."

There was a loud clunking noise from the galley, then the sound of liquid washing out.

"Ah. Right on schedule."

"Yes Master," she said. The collar on her throat had stilled beneath his hand but began to wriggle again as he released it. "May I go fix that now Master?"

He finished connecting a line, then flipped a switch. Lights came on and he sighed contentedly. "No, let us both go and see what sort of mess my new toy has made."

He slipped into her mind, establishing the connection between them. ::Remember to look fearful.::

She flashed him a flicker of a smile before drawing her eyebrows together in worry. "Of course, Master."

Alianne froze when they entered, nutrient solution spewing from a broken hose. She'd been trying to block it with her hands to no avail, soaked from head to toe from the initial rupture.  
He waved a hand, sealing the pipe with a temporary grip of the Force.  
"What happened here?" he asked, his voice cold and menacing.  
Alianne threw herself at the floor. "Please forgive this unworthy slave, master! She was not trained on this equipment!"  
"I see..."  
He lifted her up into the air, the hose flitting into her mouth, which sealed around it. Nutrient solution began to stream from her nose as she screamed around the restored flow.  
"Why did you not teach this slave how to run the equipment before turning her loose on it?" he asked Iocina.

She immediately dropped to the floor with a small frightened cry, "I'm sorry my Lord, she claimed she was a skilled chef when she spoke to you earlier. I thought she would be capable of running the machinery," she bit her tongue gently, two could play the game of undermining the other. Alianne claimed Iocina had failed to instruct her, Iocina insinuated Alianne had lied to their Master about her skills.

"Good point."

The hose whipped out of Alianne's mouth and snapped downward, snaking its way into Iocina's mouth. Flavorless nutrient solution gushed into her mouth, forcing her to struggle to keep it from aspirating into her lungs.

He shook Alianne in the air. "Explain yourself, slave."

She gasped and spewed nutrient solution out. "I-I-I," she coughed and gagged as he rattled her around some more.

::She's busy explaining herself,:: he said in Iocina's mind. ::Oho, does she want to see you suffer. Spicy little creature, this one...::

Iocina grasped hold of the implanted memory he'd given her the previous day and simply opened her throat to receive the liquid. It was uncomfortable and she might throw it up after, but it spilled into her stomach instead of burning her nose and getting into her lungs.

::Are you going to indulge her?:: she asked curiously.

::That is the point of the exercise. But she will have to suffer too. However, this is where we find out you've been undermining my intentions and have to suffer.::

He snapped the hose out and grabbed it with his hand. The metal glowed for a moment and then fused the hose shut.

He threw Alianne into Iocina. "You slaves are worthless.

Iocina caught herself just in time before dodging out of the way. Her reflexes were suffering from the Force suppressant but her muscle memory wanted to roll to the side and avoid being hit. As it was she managed to half-catch Alianne, not taking the full brunt of the blow.

Although it was meant to be tasteless in order to be incorporated into any food substitute the nutrient liquid had a faint metallic taste with nothing to hide it. She hadn't had enough of it to make her sick, or even to make her stomach too full for comfort, and she needed the calories anyway. Silver linings.

She half pushed the other woman away from her to give herself room to properly abase herself, "Please forgive us my Lord," she said, sounding as though she were about to cry.

He snatched their heads with the Force and cracked them together.

"I think I should just space both of you and save myself further trouble."

"Please Lord!" Alianne cried. "Let me make penance!"

Iocina decided to be beyond words and huddled into a ball sobbing, she was after all supposed to be in complete disgrace and one more wrongdoing could mean death by slow torture.

"Oh, you want to make penance?" he asked. "Offer your body, then."

His hand crackled with sinister energy. "Your breasts. Hold them up."

Iocina could not see what was happening, but she heard the throat-tearing screams that came afterward.

She choked on one of her sobs, biting back the urge to laugh. Alianne was right, it was nice when you weren't the one being punished. I'm about to get it myself, probably worse. Even just two weeks of conditioning has made me more able to withstand torture, so I'll get the worst part of it. Plus whatever my Master has planned for my supposed fresh betrayal.

Alianne fell across her legs, sobbing and quietly pleading for forgiveness.

"SILENCE!" he roared. He snatched Iocina back up into the air to hover over him. "And you, slave. Did you really think I wouldn't know what you were doing?"

She went limp, eyes widening in shock and horror. She opened and closed her mouth a few times and shook her head. "No," she whispered, "how..."

"I can read your mind, you moron," he snapped, shaking her around, rattling her entire body. "You were hoping she'd fail spectacularly in here, something to put me onto her so I'd forget how much of a miserable failure you've been."

He pressed her against the equipment, sharp edges digging into her body. "Beg for your life, slave. I may or may not give it to you, but you can at least amuse me somewhat before you die."

"Please my Lord, don't kill me. I'll do anything, even... please," she shook, eyes closed as if waiting for the killing blow, "I promise I'll do better, I can be taught. I know my old master was a useless old man who let me keep bad habits. I should have worked on my own to not be as pathetic as he was, only please let me keep my life so I can serve you. You... you're so much more powerful than he was, you are blazing sun in comparison to his spark!" another truth, knocked out of her when she told herself she was play-acting. Was this 'game' just giving her an excuse to say aloud what was being turned over in the very back of her mind. She'd been working through this on a nearly subconscious level for days now, maybe she just needed a trigger to let it out.

He laughed at that. "Keep going."

He traced a burning finger over her body as he spoke, leaving no marks but the fiery line of pain lingered as he idly traced arcane designs on her.

Suddenly she wasn't apologizing for what she was supposed to be, but likely Alianne wouldn't know the difference, "The teachings are wrong, everything about them are wrong. You embody what power should be, how it should be used. I want to serve you, to carry some of your will in me that... that I might hold the same one day. All this time flailing about, disobeying you and listening to those who have no inkling of the real truth of the universe has been pointless. I've been a complete waste of your time, you are more than gracious in putting the effort into me that you have. I'm worthless to you, but can learn. More than that, I'm willing to learn and I will learn every lesson you bestow on me. Please, I don't want to die."

He tugged her through the air after him. "I'll think about it," he said. He towed her through the air to the cargo bay and hurled her into one of the force cages, which activated after she landed."

"But in the meantime, I'll give you some time to think about things..."

The cage began to lift as the ramp lowered, the magcon field activating automatically.

"Have to be careful," he said, gesturing at the power connections. "Wouldn't want those to come unplugged..."

::Shavit!::

If Alianne got too clever Iocina was in a lot of trouble. Without the Force she'd have only as much chance of surviving a mistake as any normal human. She settled her feet in a strong stance, well balanced and less likely to fall into the barrier around the cage.

::Your idea was good, but a little more risk adds some spice, don't you think?::

A tether snapped out to attach itself to the cage, leaving her to float about in swirling insanity of hyperspace, her only connection to the ship a tether and the power connection that kept her atmosphere in.

She could see him berating Alianne some more, then turning to depart. She stood by the magcon, watching Iocina for several long moments, studying the cords.

Of course, Master, she thought faintly, there was literally nothing she could do about it. If it all went wrong, well, that was that.

She clasped her hands loosely before her, feet a bit more than shoulder width apart. It would be a lie to say she wasn't afraid, but fear was a power she understood and this could be as much a test to herself as Alianne. When this was over, and she was back on the ship, she'd turn her fear into something she could use. If she was permitted to do so, she would turn it into pain and blood and back into fear but not for herself.

"Now, what exactly would you be doing?" she asked, all trace of subservience gone from her voice.

Alianne stroked the power cable, smiling at her, tracing a finger along its length. She could see Iocina talking, but neither of them could hear each other.

She smiled, a wide grin that could have seemed friendly but wasn't. Either she'd survive this, or she wouldn't, but she'd been thinking a lot lately. The Sith were all about power, that's what all the fear and anger and hate amounted to and winning was the ultimate power.

Real victory is completely destroying your enemy. Its not enough to kill, you have to make them understand and internalize the fear and pain of being defeated to an extent that their mind breaks under the strain.

Does Alianne understand that? That killing me won't defeat me, she hasn't broken me. If I'm broken at all it was never any act of hers that did it. She understands the desire for power more than I do but its sort of like what I said in my dream about what's wrong with the Republic. Power for the sake of power is pointless and hollow, she wants power because she's never had any before. She's gorging on it while she can, not knowing that if she kills me her power will be diminished. I have a lot to learn about power and what to do with it once you have it, but I know how stupid it is to want it without having a plan for it. If I live through this, I could show her what real power is. If I die, my Master will.

Alianne stroked the cord a moment longer. Ullan had ordered her to clean up the mess in the galley, and she had to get to that. Suddenly Iocina smiled at her, sending a chill down her spine.

She should be terrified. She should be shouting and begging, not... smiling.

She had no intention of sabotaging the master's lesson, that would be foolish. But the smile... Her hand clasped the cable. A simple twist and tug would remove this threat. Because Iocina was a threat, she knew it. She knew that smile, she had seen it in other predators before. She knew that if she let the other woman die, she would suffer, possibly even die. But if Iocina survived, there would be a terrible price to pay.

She sighed, seeing fear on the other woman's face. She'd only seen that fear aimed at herself twice in her life. Once, when she'd claimed knowledge from Bronus' mind against her will, and one other time. Walking two steps behind Ullan, both of them covered in wounds down the streets of Vilargo's tiny settlement. People had scrambled out of their wake, and although the lions share of cringes and terror had been for Ullan, a small bit had been for her.

She knelt, not in a subservient pose but a meditative one. Her thoughts flicked to the Jedi code, but turned away. Did the Sith have a code? Yes, she remembered Vrook saying it was a perversion of the Jedi's. Yuld had said that even the Jedi code as it was now was not what it once was, but had never gotten around to telling her that either. He'd said it would just confuse her at the time and he'd explain it when she was older.

She waited, and watched.

Alianne retreated from the cargo hold, hastening to her duties, riven by indecision.

She knew, now, that she had badly misjudged the situation. Her master was deep and cunning, as Iocina had warned. But she was starting to realize that Iocina herself had also been part of the manipulation.

She would need to go deep to survive. Suffering was coming. But she could endure.

And for that taste of power that she had so briefly held, she would. There would be other slaves and other opportunities. She would endure what she must.

::I was in this position myself once, as a padawan. Not entirely like this, but stranded on the hull of a liner in hyperspace, fighting pirates while the engines threatened to self-destruct. Probably why I keep going back to it,:: he mused in Iocina's mind. ::It is beautiful out there.::

Iocina smiled again, savoring Alianne's retreat. It is, she thought, dangerous and beautiful, just like the fear on Alianne's face. I'm going to have fun with that I hope.

She turned away from the interior of the ship and watched the ebb and flow of light swirling back and away from her. She knew she'd probably be out here awhile, so she might as well enjoy it.

::Now you begin to appreciate power. You're wrong, though, she did have plans. She didn't want to kill you, she wanted you utterly cowed. She didn't want to just watch you suffer, she wanted to make you suffer herself. But you want the truly hilarious part? She's not very clear on this business with the Force, and she thinks that if she's extra good, I'll teach her how to do all this. If you're a good little slave, I'll let you be the one to crush her dream.::

She gave her own dreamy sigh, almost perfectly mimicking the tone Alianne had used when asking what her worst punishment had been, ::Thank you Master, I would be very humbly grateful to you for that opportunity,:: she made a low bow, still facing hyperspace. Even if he wasn't watching on a feed somewhere, it would color her thoughts.

::Now you begin to feel the stirrings of hate, and the joy of making one you hate suffer. It is not enough to hate, that's impotence. No, you must hate with the desire, intent, and ultimately the ability to make your target bleed and cry out. What could you have ever done to Vrook but maunder about sullenly? And yet, by using you I have made him suffer in ways that he doesn't even comprehend. That is effective hate.::

::Is there a way it can be used against him further? Surely he's gotten your new message by now, or will soon. I wish I could see his expression, the expression of the whole council. I wish I could make them know that they could have had me, could have kept me if they'd only made better choices. If Vrook hadn't been so cold and arrogant a teacher, I may never have had the opportunity to serve you, Master. I'd have shown him the message from Yuld, or was it from you?::

::It was from me. The Devourer had shown me that you might come in handy and frankly you looked like you'd make an interesting toy, if nothing else. I do enjoy Jedi women groveling at my feet.::

There was a long pause.

::So long as you continue to apply yourself, there will be many further opportunities to give Vrook regrets. I've recently been informed of a sizable bounty on my head. I think we got on his nerves.::

 

::But no bounty on mine?:: she was actually surprised, at the very least there should be a capture order being as I saw something I shouldn't have. There's really nothing stopping me starting rumors outside the Sith about the Jedi mistreating prisoners of war or something. If their plan really was to sow dissension, it was really bad plan.

::Iadmit I'm relieved it was you. Yuld, well, I'd like to know what his plan was to turn me since he was too weak to even handle you hurting me. I suppose its that pesky attachment Vrook tried to snuff out. I'm just curious.::

::He was going to talk to you. Seriously, that was it. He was going to explain how the Jedi were bad, attachments weren't so bad, and how a third path could be salvation. He was busy explaining this to me while I pulled his fingers and toes off. There is a capture order out for you as well, but no bounty attached. You're not worth that yet, and no real threat. There is a bonus rider on the bounty on me if they bring you in as well, too, but honestly I've purchased good dinners for more credits than that.::

She shifted slightly, flexing calves and thighs to keep her circulation going. She was cold, and uncomfortable, but less than she'd been recently. She was fed and had no broken bones, so she was content.

That's… that is so stupid. she barked a short laugh, loud in the emptiness of the cage, I think I'd have had more luck returning him to the fold than he'd have had trying to introduce me to the dark side. He'd probably have put it just that way too. it took her several moment to catch her breath, it was so ridiculous a picture.

She settled again, ::As for the bounty I'd say I'm insulted for myself but I haven't proven I'm a threat. Yet. Is your bounty enough to impress you?::

::Please, it's less than that of Malak's. We'll have to make a point of killing enough bounty hunters to drive it up. I'll collect some parts and have them dumped in the air over the temple, you think?::

::I think I'd rather gift wrap them and have them delivered to the initiates. Let the council explain that to them.::

::Now you're actually using what passes for a brain. Well, enjoy your time out there, I'm going to violate my new little slave and make her cry and beg for me. Talk to you later.::

Iocina thought about that, wishing she could watch. At the very least wishing she could sense it. Have fun.

She stood and gave a few experimental stretches. She felt like she was getting soft, maybe if she was good she'd get to do some unarmed kata soon. She settled on dynamic resistance exercises, using the limited space to flex and use her own body weight. When she was satisfied she sat back down and stared into hyperspace, imagining just what her Master was doing to Alianne and what she was going to do to her when she got an opportunity.

Time dragged by, impossible to gauge without a clock, with only the companionship of whirling hyperspace for company. Finally the canister began to tug back toward the ship.

When she looked back, Ullan stood on the ramp at the very edge of the magcon field, drawing her back with the Force. He was stripped to the waist, his body still sheened with sweat, and Alianna, no longer clad in her costume, knelt by his feet, arms wrapped around his leg.

Iocina smiled down at Alianne, that same sweet venomous expression she'd given Bronus three weeks gone. "Thank you Alianne, for giving this humble slave an opportunity to take in a valuable lesson from our Master. She feels her place at his feet has only been strengthened by this well earned chastisement."

She knelt very gracefully to the floor, face inches from Alianne's and pressed a fervent kiss to her Master's boot.

Alliane hid behind Ullan's leg, her face pale as a sheet.

He accepted her obeisance, then shook his leg free. "I believe you slaves have things to discuss."

He turned and departed, throwing a thought back to Iocina as he left. ::No death, no permanent disfigurement, but feel free to work your will upon her.::

She rose to her knees with a smile still on her lips and reached out a hand to touch Alianne's face. The younger woman tried to flinch away but Iocina was on her in a moment. Alianne hadn't had a short exercise routine and rest and Iocina had. The collar around her throat quickened once more, but there was no pain. At the very edges of her senses, dulled by suppression drugs as they were, it felt encouraging.

"Now, where were we? Oh yes you couldn't hear me when I asked you what you were doing earlier, lets start with that," she settled herself atop the girl hands grabbing her wrists as she tried to strike her face, "That's not very sisterly, aren't we both just slaves in this together?" she pressed her pelvis against the other girl's, her dark honey skin molding to pale pink flesh.

"Now, what have we learned?"

"I wasn't going to disconnect you!" she said frantically. "I would never!"

"Oh but you would have, but you know our Master's power is always in our minds. Every thought you have he knows, and judges," she intoned with the solemnity of Master Vandar giving a lesson.

"That doesn't answer my question, I asked you what you've learned from this experience?"

"I, I," she stammered. "Never trust what I see here?"

She squirmed against Iocina's grip, the bully beaten and exposed at her soft, weak core.

She tsked, "You should never trust anything, except that the will of our Master is more unbreakable than durasteel, implacable, eternal," she squeezed the wrists held in her hands, slowly adding pressure until Alianne made a soft pain noise.

"I'm starting to love that sound," she whispered, only half speaking to the slave, "Another thing you must learn is that I, and Bronus who will return here, are Lord Ullan's property. He doesn't let others touch his property without his permission. That most definitely includes you," Iocina wrapped her knees around the woman's hips, grinding into her. She could feel wetness pressing into her from between Alianne's legs, mixing with her own growing need.

"Did he take you here, or?"

"He took me everywhere," she whispered, suddenly rallying back. "Jealous?"

"He doesn't need to touch me with his hands," she said, leaning close enough to Alianne's mouth that the girl could feel her breath but not close enough for a quick bite, "He could take me in the cage while your body is beneath his on the other side of the ship," she said, "We had a nice long conversation while he was playing with you."

Alianne hissed and did indeed try to bite at her. "I know what he wants. I know what he's after. I know how to be his slave and you don't, and I'm going to destroy you."

::Now that's interesting,:: Ullan said. ::More spunk than I expected. She really got the taste...::

::May I tell her, or should I draw that out and just insinuate like I've done so far?:: she asked, laughing aloud as she dodged snapping teeth.  
"Missed me," she said, "do you really know what he wants? Do you even know how to destroy something like me?"

She began to move in a rhythm, experimental and instinctive. Rubbing herself against the other girl, it was futile for herself but sex was another kind of power.

"I've only been told not to kill or maim you, did you know that?"

::The lingering pain is the best, he thought. I do want to cultivate this seed within her, though. Master her, but do not break her. I'll let her sharpen her claws on Bronus.::

"Because he knows," she said. "He knows what I can be! Master! You know what I can be!"

"And what exactly can you be?" she asked, then tilted her head as if listening for a message, "You want to be like him? Have power like our Master?" another poison smile, "We'll see what he wants to make of you, but I don't think you have it in you. Your soul isn't strong enough."

She lowered her head, closing her mouth on the tip of one breast and bit down gently. She sucked, pulled the girl's wrists down to lay against her body and began to grind her sex into Alianne's. She bit down, hard enough to bruise but not quite to draw blood.

Alianne's body squirmed, but not in resistance. Rather, her instinct was to push back, to ride into the contact. She gave a moan of faux passion, allowing Iocina to use her body.

"I will be great," she whispered. "Great."

Iocina heard the false note and stilled her body, biting down as hard on Alianne's breast. At least as hard as Bronus' had bitten her forearm. She almost regretted that the Jedi had healed the wound without a scar, they could have matched. Alianne would not get a Jedi healing trance or even Kolto if she had anything to say about it. Just enough disinfectant not to become infected, the kind that burned in a wound. Yes.

Alianne screamed, but continued writhing, her instincts kicking in. "Yes, please, more," she cried out. "DO IT!"

"No," Iocina said, "I don't think I will." She rolled off the girl and wrestled her to her feet, then began to march her toward the force cage.

Alianne suddenly wrapped her arms around Iocina's waist and tried, clumsily, to take her down.

Iocina found herself laughing as hard as she had at the thought of Yuld converting her to the Sith. Alianne was slightly taller than Iocina, but she'd spent all her life learning martial arts and years of practice in compensating for her small stature. She kicked out at the girl's knee, not enough to dislocate it but to disable it long enough to drag her. Alianne fought with flailing fists and fingernails and that was easy to either ignore or endure.

When the field had come up around the girl Iocina sat on the floor in front of it, examining the controls. This was much newer than the model she'd studied but it wasn't so different that she couldn't find the 'subdual' settings. She smiled up at Alianne and traced her fingers over the panel, then turned off the privacy shield that had kept them from hearing one another before.

"I saw the way you were looking at these earlier, were you looking forward to doing this to me?"

Alianne threw herself at the field and was repelled back violently, rebounding off the backside, her hair flying up crazily in the suddenly-ionized atmosphere. She lay whimpering, her body spasming in random tics, unable to even cry out.

She made a show of chewing on her lip and tried to reach for the bond. The last dose of neuro-block she'd taken had been three days ago, and she had probably four more days until it was completely gone. If she concentrated hard enough she could feel the Force, faintly. She had no idea if he'd let her get to the point where she could manipulate it again, or block her off until he decided she was worthy. 

::Can I play with this?::

She received neither affirmation nor dissent in her mind. Alianne lay motionless in the cell now, her eyes slitted open, staring at Iocina.

 

"Power," Iocina said, "I have it and you don't, perhaps you'll be in good graces soon and I'll be at your mercy for awhile. Power is nice to have, but not if you don't do anything with it. When our Master deigns to give power to his slaves, to send them into the world to be instruments of his will, they cannot let the small amount of power go to their heads. Its fun to revel in it," her finger darted out as if to press a button and chuckled as Alianne flinched, "But not always useful. While you're in here, think about what sort of ways power can be useful to you - other than getting temporary advantage over me. This is a lesson I too am in the middle of learning, instructed by our Lord."

She shifted as if she'd stand and leave Alianne, waited for that tiny relieved exhalation of breath that meant she thought Iocina wasn't going to hurt her, and quickly pressed the button that would send a short, moderate burst of electricity through the cage. She counted to three and then released it, then stood and walked away.

Alianne glared after her, a mixture of fear and hatred in her eyes.

He waited in the hallway and caught Iocina by the arm, turned and slammed her into the wall.

"I think you're beginning to understand," he told her.

Iocina's face was flushed, her pulse pounding against the icy collar that seemed to undulate to the same rhythm as her heart.

"Yes," she said.

He kissed her, much as the first time he kissed her. Even without the Force, she could sense the need rolling off of him, an unspoken hunger for something more than power, more than pain.

Once they broke apart, he leaned down to whisper. "What do you think of my little pet now?"

"She'll be useful if she tames down, she's too impulsive and only has the barest idea of what she could do in your service," she answered, breath quickened, "She's vicious, and clever, but you can be both of those things without being intelligent. I haven't been in her mind, so I don't know if she has all three."

Iocina leaned into him, "If she can't hurt me, she'll hurt Bronus. She just wants to make someone hurt, without thinking about the consequences. She has a vague idea of what Sith are I think, and believes that you'd appreciate her breaking your other slaves to rise above them. She probably thinks that is how she can earn your attention and become your apprentice."

"Exactly so," he said. "She's only been here for a few hours. Give her time to learn the environment, and she'll be interesting, to say the least. I want to cultivate that. Hatred that powerful is useful. She would have made a good Sith, if she had the Force in her. Better than you, certainly."

He squeezed her breast. "Though you have actually committed, and not simply because you're a poor little lost padawan with nowhere to go."

"Apparently I just needed proper motivation," she said, letting her head drop back to rest on the wall, "or competition."

He nodded. "Truli would've served, if he hadn't turned out to be a soft Jedi fool. Speaking of those who could've been trained into being a functional Sith."

He clasped his hand around her throat, then kissed her once more. "We land in two hours. Get yourself cleaned up and in costume. We're going to collect my other slave and tend to some business."

"Yes Master."

She ran her fingers through several of the new gowns, she was hoping she could find something interesting build into them. After a moment she found it. Black, of course, with tight top and falling into several panels making up the skirt. It was maneuverable and the uncomfortable bits would chafe just enough to keep her happy but not enough to be distracting. The outside was soft and slippery, wonderful to touch; the inside was lined in a faintly unpleasant mesh that scraped at her hips and breasts, catching on her nipples as she breathed and moved.

She slipped it on and dug through a lower cabinet. There were several sets of shoes, and it was unsurprising that three pairs were her size. Yet another sign that Ullan always knew she'd come back. I'm so predictable. She put on the pair that were almost as comfortable as boots, locking around her ankles for support. She wasn't sure where they were going, but she didn't want to make a fool of herself if they needed to run.

Alianne drifted through a half-conscious state, even as Ullan whispered in her mind.

::I will make great things of you, slave. I will shape you to be my monster...::

***

Planetfall. Ullan hadn't told her the name of the planet, but it looked to be a lush and verdant world, with a variety of terrains. As they flitted around the nightside, she could see a shining carpet of lights, indicating a highly civilized and inhabited world.

The starport was majestic, full of large, glittering craft ranging from enormous bulk transports to luxury liners. Ullan stopped before departing, trying on several sets of clothing. As he discarded a shirt, she saw a faint mesh of glittering teeth sewn into it.

She ran her fingers over it, feeling the texture of it, "Master, where are we?" she asked, "What should I know? Am I still to be your terrified half-broken slave?

"Goruna," he said. "It's a resort world, tourist trap. You'll be elegant and tame, this time. Bring me my drinks, light my deathsticks. Cool and reserved, and so very proper."

The teeth were not quite sharp enough to break the skin without some effort, but they would be wicked uncomfortable. Laying in between them were numerous tiny points, which would be just enough to penetrate the outer layer of the skin without drawing blood, a patchwork of stinging pain.

He took her hand and pressed them against the barbs, pricking into her palm, then nibbled on her neck.

She sighed, leaning some of her weight down on it. "Yes. Master," she turned her head slightly to look up at him curiously, "Do you prefer Master or my Lord?" she asked, "I chose my Lord in front of Alianne for effect, but never thought to ask what you'd rather I call you. Bronus switches between them sometimes as well."

"I like them both. If we're dealing with outsiders who know I'm Sith, then use 'My Lord'. If they don't know, go with 'master'."

He wrapped his arm around her midriff. "What you call me doesn't change the nature of what is between us, after all. You are the possession and I am the owner."

He caught her earlobe in his teeth and nibbled on it, then whispered. "And you love it, little slave."

"I'd say you have no idea but you do. I think I was fighting that as much as anything else," she admitted, her voice catching slightly, "Do you want me to wet through this dress before we even get planetside?" she squirmed against him with a smirk.

"I knew when I saw you. You fought, but you didn't fight."

He let her go, pushing her facefirst onto the bed as he did. "That said, I had no idea if you'd survive or not or actually turn out to be useful. But I did know I could at least make a pet of you. Now we'll see if you can be anything more."

"All I know right now is that I want to learn what you have to teach, to torment Alianne, and do as much damage to the Jedi as I can," she said, "after that I'll come up with a new goal," she wriggled against the soft bed. Maybe if I'm good, I can sleep in the bed with Master and Alianne can have the shackles.

He chuckled. "Remember, the worse you make it for her, the worse she's going to make it for Bronus. Of course," he fastened a new cloak around his shoulders, then looked in the mirror. "I actually intend to encourage that chain of effect."

He turned about, examining himself. He had chosen stylish clothes and concealed his lightsaber in his vest, giving the effect of a wealthy man out on a holiday jaunt.

"Here you will be my well-trained mistress. They're not so open about their slavery."

"I'd say you look like a wealthy and inoffensive businessman, if not for the aura of menace you exude," she remarked, "but then again I know what you are." She did her own little turn, a gentle twirl that sent the layers of silken panels to flare and twist around her legs, "Do I look harmless?"

"Utterly. Beautiful women are disarming in a number of ways. Even a rather plain-looking one such as yourself can get by with much by showing a bit of skin."

He tossed her a hold-out blaster. "Just in case. Remember the 'kill everyone' code?"

"'Well then, we'll just be going,'" she said, as she looked for a good place to hide the weapon. The dress was tight but she felt all over it for hidden seams. She was unsurprised when she found one, neatly hidden in a fold below and to one side of her navel.

"I'm glad somebody does," he said. "If we're lucky, we'll even get to use it."

"Go say goodbye to the slave, then we'll get on with our day."

She grinned and stalked off to the cargo hold. Alianne was huddled in the bottom of the cage with her head pillowed on her knees.

"Wake up," Iocina said cheerfully, "I came to say goodbye," it was purposely vague, and she hoped it made her nervous.

Her head pulled free to look up at Iocina, the crazed look somewhat faded. She had reverted to her docile slave appearance and did not speak.

Iocina crouched, resting her elbows on her knees, "Well, for a while anyway," she amended, "I get to go down to the planet with my Lord. Oh dear, if you'd been good I might still be in disgrace and you could have been the one wearing a pretty dress and hanging on your Master's arm."

She tilted her head, "Are you afraid of me slave? Answer."

"Yes," she said. After a moment, she added on "mistress."

"So, you're cruel and devious. Two things I'm beginning to appreciate, and now you're showing intelligence," she said, "Thats good. Other than 'don't trust what you see' what have you learned today? I don't have time to listen to you puzzling it out, so think about it while we're gone."

She turned and went back to her Master.

He was finishing the touchdown procedures. "Civilized worlds, gah," he grumbled. "Rules and red tape and annoyance. How do they live with themselves?"

"I don't know Master," Iocina said from her position kneeling between the pilot and copilot seats, "it's possible they think all those rules will keep shady individuals from getting on planet and causing trouble." She tapped her lower lip with the tips of her fingers, "It makes them feel better I suppose, no matter if it works or not."

He snickered as he finished landing, then slapped the release for the ramp.

"Well, let's go disabuse them of any notions of security then."

"Sounds good to me," she said, "Ah, Master, if they don't care for slavery here will this collar cause you trouble at all?"

"Or me calling you master?" she added.

"It's decorative," he said. "Not all collars are slave marks. Even if they should be."

He shook his head about a bit, playing with his facial expressions.

"That one could be an issue," he said as he widened his eyes and let his jaw hang a bit, transforming from Sith Lord at rest to adventurous tourist. "My name is Parc Sylla. Call me 'Parc'. Which, by the way, is a word for 'master' in a very old and very dead tongue."

He turned and extended his arm. "My little pet, if you would care to accompany me?"

She slipped a hand under his elbow and leaned into him with a giggle, "Of course Parc, I would love to," she was glad he'd told her his alias meant 'master' or she might have stumbled over it. It was easier this way. She'd gotten used to calling him Master, even when she hadn't accepted it completely.

He led her off the ship. Customs personnel greeted them, much as they had at Vilargo, only these personnel were respectably dressed and behaved in a deferential manner.

"Duke Sylla," the woman in front of the customs crew said, stepping up to offer him a reader. Ullan waved it aside.

"I don't touch these things," he said. "Simply imprint whatever you need, citizen."

"Ah, yes, of course Duke," she said. "Do you have anything to declare?"

"Counter-reg ventral quad laser mount, military grade tractor beam, two dozen types of contraband narcotics, Sith artifacts both on my person and on that of my companion, who incidentally is one of the two slaves I've transported to this planet against the emancipation decree of your parliament, a lightsaber," he looked thoughtful as if trying to remember anything else. "I think that's all of it."

The woman had gone pale and started to look back at her companions.

"I am of course joking," he said.

"Of course you are joking."

"There's nothing to see on my vessel and we can be done with this."

She nodded, her head snapping up and down like the fall of a butcher's axe. "There's nothing to see on your vessel and you can be done with this."

"Thank you, my dear." He pointed at a maintenance tech working on another ship. "You should take that man to the nearest private locale and have the most degrading sexual relations with him you can imagine. Fulfill all of his most perverse fantasies."

She looked over at the maintenance tech, then nodded and called over her shoulder. "I'm, ah, taking a break. I'll be back..." she trailed off and began walking briskly toward the man.

Ullan tapped a control and the ramp began to close. "I believe we're done here."

When they were out of earshot she smiled up at him, trying to make it look loving rather than conspiritorial, "Do you really have all those narcotics?" she asked, "And if so what are going to do with them?"

"Standard issue on a courier. Truth drugs, pain-enhancement, dream pills, even a few ampoules of spice. Well, some of them I've also found along the way. You never know when a good drug could come in handy. I might even let you try some, now that you're not a good little padawan..."

An autocab slid up to the curb, the doors sliding open. "So handy, the rake on the Nar Shaddaa deal. I never did tell you," he said as he slid in and gestured for her to join him. "It went entirely smooth after Hyvvis made his inglorious retreat. They would prefer dealing with other organizations than ours, but we were the only option remaining. With the Exchange pressing on them, they can't afford to be overly choosy."

She slid inside, carefully allowing only one short glimpse up the length of her thigh as she did so, "I don't think you ever told me what the point of all that was anyway, and I was much too cowardly a padawan to ask," she said in a soft undertone. She looked out the window for a moment then snuggled into his side. Pressed against his body the mesh lining of the gown was pleasant but nothing to cause her to lose focus like the hot buzzing current of the last one. "Any hints for what we're doing here?"

The car lifted, swooping them over a majestic, glowing river toward a skyline of towering buildings. He tapped the windows briefly, staring at the buildings.

"We're meeting people. Several different ones. Contacts who know who I am and contacts who don't."

His hand slid between her thighs, pressing against the sensitive nerve that ran the length of her leg.

"The point of that was that Revan had scheduled negotiations. Malak killed Revan. Revan's team was delayed. I stepped into the breach and handled things. I also collected the customary excess tribute that goes to the negotiator. Lord Epp'lik will be most displeased about that, but I'm sure he'll recover."

She flexed the muscles in her thigh against his hand and nodded, "Do you think who I saw was really Revan?" she asked curiously, "I can think of any number of reasons to do what I think they've done, and several reasons why it may be the stupidest thing the Council has done in centuries."

"I'm making no judgment either way. I don't have any assets on Dantooine, but I already had ongoing efforts in that regard. I'm going to wait for further information before I see to wiping that entire damned planet off the stellar map."

"Whether it works in their favor or bites us in the ass we'll just have to find out."

He shrugged. "It's only of a certain amount of importance. I spent my entire life fighting for the good of others and for the balance of the galaxy and that nonsense."

The autocab slid to a landing atop a majestic resort building. Lights streamed to the sky, proclaiming the attractions within.

"I intend to make the most of my existence for me," he said. He leaned in to kiss her as the door slid open.

She returned the kiss with real passion, not just for anyone who might be watching. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, "That sounds like a good plan too."

She eased herself out on the sidewalk before him, standing aside to give him room. It wasn't precisely difficult to slip into the posture of eager young woman who had one the attention of such a great man as Duke Sylla. Essentially that was exactly what she was, after all. She just wasn't here to only be ornamental eye candy, insufficient as her looks were to fully play that role in any case.

They were greeted by a reception party of servants who ushered them away from the cab.

"Welcome to Yaduthinsha, Duke and madame!"

"Finest entertainment in the sector!"

"If you need anything, anything at all!"

He waved the servants aside, guiding her down the aisle to the entryway, his appearance now one of the practiced regal disdain.

"Acceptable," he said, an unvoiced sigh in his words.

"Thank you, noble duke," the man leading the party said.

They stepped through the doors and into the main chamber. Massive holograms flitted about the air as men, women, and aliens cavorted and frolicked. A large pool held in suspensors floated above them, with swimmers twisting through the water.

Iocina kept her gaze carefully neutral, glancing around her as though this were a mere novelty, as though she saw such things all the time, instead of it being a fascinating new experience. She had to settle for looking at everything in small bits as they walked, filing things away to think about later.

While the Desarane had been all debauchery, this place was all delight. At least on the surface. Unlike on Nar Shaddaa she couldn't really sense the moods or thoughts of those around her. The Force was like the barest flickering ember at the edges of her consciousness and she yearned for a time soon when it was fully in her grasp again. I won't ask though, she thought, even if he planned on letting it wear off now he'd give me another injection to spite me and prove I couldn't predict his moves.

Maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn't. Maybe I like tasting your hunger for it, and maybe I actually have a use for you without it. You never know, which is the point. Slave.

"Duke Sylla!" A heavyset Bothan lumbered forward to reach out for him.

"Marthos," Ullan said dryly "delightful to see you. I had no idea you'd be here."

"Oh, but you must join us! These people, they haven't heard the story!"

Ullan waved his hand. "Please, not that again. It's embarrassing."

"No! Everyone should know the hero who saved so many lives."

::Don't even kriffing ask. Besides, you're going to find out soon enough.::

She beamed vapidly, wriggling a little as though excited to be standing next to a hero.

I suppose its made me realize how much I rely on the Force for stupid things, she mused, grabbing things instead of picking them up with my hands when I don't absolutely need to, and my reflexes are shot with out it. If I can get used to it now I'll be better off if I ever end up in a situation where I've had it done by an enemy.

And so the slave understands the point of the lesson. Well one of them. The other is just to add some misery to your existence. I work blind occasionally just to remind myself what it's like, what's like to be

"Marthos," Ullan said to conclude the though "you've convinced me against my better judgment. Let's go meet your friends."

The Bothan pulled him back enthusiastically. "And who is this, Parc?"

Iocina's expression of vapid interest turned to the Bothan and she leaned her head against Ullan, "Melisande Atric, its a pleasure to meet any friend of Parc's."

Refer to me as 'my Parc', slave.

"Delightful to meet you as well. He has such delightful taste in companions! How long have the two of you been together?"

Yes, he really is that tactful and subtle.

Yes Master, her thoughts were colored with mischief.

"Oh my Parc here swept me off my feet not too long ago, I don't have a good head for dates," she looked up a him with a silly smile on her face, then looked down shyly, "He's fair turned my little head with his wiles," she added.

"He does that! He does that indeed," Marthos enthused.

The party he took them back to was a veritable multi-species coalition. A Bothan woman awaited, along with a well-dressed Sullustan, a Rodian, and a Mon Calamari.

"Everyone! This is my friend the Duke Parc Sylla!"

"The same?" the Mon Calamari burbled out. "The one who rescued the liner from the pirates?"

::I was trying to take a damned vacation,:: he grumbled. ::Stupid kriffing pirates.::

::Is this when you were fighting pirates on the hull, or another time you were traveling on a liner that was attacked by pirates? If its happened twice I'd start taking vacations on the ground.::

"Oh, you haven't told me this story!" she bumped him with her hip exuberantly, "I already knew you were courageous, but pirates?!" she shuddered theatrically, as if she were terrified at the very idea of fighting anyone.

::First time wasn't a vacation, that was Jedi business. Second time was just a vacation. Getting away from the war and everything else for a bit. Had some time before Revan kicked off the big offensive to knock over the Republic.::

"There's a reason for that, pet," he said, trying to wave off the impending story.

"Reason! The Duke trapped the pirates in the lower holds! Turned out that he'd been a pilot himself in his younger days!" Marthos gushed.

"Much younger," Ullan said. "All that youthful adventuring is behind me now. I keep to the simple pleasures of life now- food, drink, and beautiful women." He reached out and pinched Iocina's chin.

She wrinkled her nose at him playfully. "Flatterer," she said, "You're much to good to me."

She shot a little wink at the female Bothan , just two women making a little connection. Either she'd be amused or hate her, and it would be realistic either way. Female's of most species were touchy, some found companionship with other women to be preferable. They fostered relationships with one another, born of trust and camaraderie. Other women essentially lived to undermine all the other females around them, competing for males or status or feuds that were astonishing in their pettiness.

Even the female initiates and padawans of the Jedi were not immune to this, although they had a better chance of falling into the former category.

The Bothan watched her through narrow eyes, with a veil of suspicion. This one was obviously well aware of the effects of a bit of skin and a submissive attitude on the average male of the species.

"I probably am," he agreed. "Drinks, I think, for everyone."

"Now that's the Parc I know!" Marthos said. The gathering quickly degenerated into the sort of boring smalltalk such meetings engendered. Ullan told outrageous lies of their traveling vacations, keeping well away from the warfront.

And that, really, was what the entire revel was about. Those gathered were, they felt, safely far enough away from the front lines, away from the collapsing Republic front. Were Revan and Malak to win the war, they could easily be brushed aside like insects in the face of the coming new order.

But it was easy to deny here, on a night like this when they could gather and display profligate wealth in the face of dismal reality.

At one point, the Bothan woman, Trylis, pulled Iocina aside. "I've seen it before," she said. "They'll tell their old stories all night if we let them."

She rolled her eyes, "Oh yes, and make themselves out to be much cleverer and well spoken than they really were at the time," she sighed, "Males everywhere are the same I fear."

She nodded. "Sylla is an old friend of the family," she said. "He saved Marthos' life, and more than that, has given timely help at other instances that have helped protect the family fortune."

"I wasn't exaggerating when I said he's been very kind to me," she said, "I have to admit I've had rather poor taste in companions recently and he's helping me get over that," she sighed and threw him an appreciative look, "It doesn't hurt that he's also incredibly good looking."

"I never could say that for a human," she said, shivering. "No offense, but you all look so naked."

She grasped Iocina's hand. "And no offense either, but Sylla sometimes has had poor taste in companions as well. He's a good-natured man, somewhat naive and prone to foolish risks. He likes to believe the best in people."

Iocina tried to look just a little hurt, then cleared her expression to replace it with understanding, "Oh," she said, "I can definitely see someone trying to take advantage of him."

She looked up at a light display, "He's a good man in a cynical galaxy full of people who want to grasp at power," she mused, "If you're worried about me I assure you I have no other intention but to have fun with him until we either bore each other or the winds of fate find us parting. A man like him won't settle down with someone like me, he should find someone who suits his rank," she smoothed a hand down the front of her dress, rough lining crinkling and dragging against her side.

She heard mocking laughter in her head.

::Foolish little insects, but useful. Strategically placed in crucial industries, I've been cultivating them for years.::

Trylis relaxed. "Yes, his passions are fleeting, he seems to have a new companion every time we see him. Such good fortune to bring us all here together in this dark time. So where are you from, exactly?"

"Here and there," she said, "My parents were unconventional. They had money but much less sense than they should have," she shamelessly stole some of Alianne's story, "Mother had artistic pretensions and father doted on her whims," she twisted her fingers as though the memory was bittersweet, "I miss them, but I can't help but feel a little resentful. They left me with relatives some time ago and, well, I don't like to talk about it," she lowered her lashes, "My Parc has soothed a lot of hurts I've collected the past few years, and I think when we finally part I'll be a very different and much improved being."

"May you make each other strong."

Ullan looked up suddenly. "One moment, I'm receiving a comm..."

He stepped away, speaking urgently to his wrist.

"I wonder what that's about," Trylis said.

::Keep them away.::

"I have to admit, my mother's family don't have the kind of money you gentlefolk are used to and my parents ah 'disdained the circles of the wealthy,' or some such nonsense. Since Parc might be awhile if its a business situation, do you think you could all show me around a bit here," she trailed off, trying to seem embarrassed, it wouldn't be difficult to let a little of the wonder she was feeling to rise to the surface, "I've been much to overwhelmed our whirlwind tours to explore a place like this, we've been so wrapped up in one another and all."

She brightened, "Besides I've always believed that things we take for granted reveal new wonders when you’re with someone who hasn't been able to experience them!"

"I would be glad to show you about," she said. "Come along, leave Parc to his business, people."

Marthos looked after him. "He seems... intense."

"He's been under some stress lately, I'm not sure why. He says I don't need to worry myself over it, and I'm sure I'd not understand a word in ten anyway."

::I need you to shed the baggage. I'll handle these insects. You've got a mission.::

Ullan strode back, his jolly bonhomie restored. "Sorry, some business matters with a local manager," he said.

"What businesses do you own here?" one of the other guests asked.

"A small shipping interest, it's a satellite office," he said. "You wouldn't be interested in it."

"I wouldn't be interested in it," the guest agreed.

::Get sick, whatever. I need you moving.::

"Oh, please excuse me for a moment, I need to visit the necessary," she forced a tiny bit of embarrassment into her voice, the kind a girl pretending to a higher station would have when making a verbal misstep.

She stood and glanced around, then walked vaguely in the direction of the 'fresher. She faded into the crowd and found a place out of the way of passersby and wait staff.

::Master?::

Bronus has been identified and captured. Bounty hunters, likely under the employ of Republic Intelligence. Remind me to tell you about my old friend Colonel Davung sometime. In any event, get an autocab and give it the following coordinates. Reconnoiter, assess the situation, then kill everyone inside and retrieve Bronus before Republic intelligence shows up to collect her.

::I'm on it,:: she turned and wove her way quickly to the exit in a path that would keep her from being seen by 'Parc's' associates.

The autocab was easer to summon than she'd expected, particularly for an area full of people. Then again most of these people probably had private cars and chauffeurs. Dealing with the payment program would be tricky without slicing tools but there were ways to get around it. It took three minutes as she got more and more frustrated to try all the override codes she'd learned. She'd actually learned this from Hivvis, and had a quick flash of amusement that she'd be using his lesson to get to a building full of people she wanted to kill.

She did want to kill them, she was fond of Bronus and she belonged to Ullan. In a feudal society, those who swore fealty to a Lord were honor bound to serve and obey them. The Lord had some responsibility to them, namely protecting their servants from being harmed without their permission. Taking Bronus was an offensive act against her Master, and she would be his instrument of both rescue and vengeance.

She pulled the small blaster from the inner pocket and checked it over. Naturally any serial number or identifying mark had been lasered off and it had a full power pack. She had more than enough to kill a building full of people, or at least as many as she needed to get a more powerful weapon. She slid it back into hiding as the autocab pulled to the curb and popped open the passenger door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out, life has been crazy and I've been having to focus on things that will make me money. If anyone is interesting in commissioning art of their stories or OCs please PM me here or facebook.com/laughingcrowart


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